17 October 2016

Infinity Run (Part Three)

The time is five something in the morning. I should be in bed now, curled like a shrimp under a blue comforter, immersed in a Leandro Okabe dream, issuing soft snores unto the chilly darkness.

But no, nah-uh. Here I am instead in Hubby’s SUV, barely awake, barely showered, barely in a good mood. We’re on our way to The Fort for the Mizuno Infinity Run. Or, as I like to call it, Where I’m About To Die. That’s because since yesterday, I’ve been getting detailed premonitions of my death (accidental stumble, incoming ten-wheeler) and funeral service (theme: ‘80s prom night).

“Just promise me one thing,” I tell Hubby in my soap opera voice, the one used in hospital scenes. “Tell the mortician to keep the make-up light and natural. Only earth-tones and please no red lipstick.”

“Stop being a drama queen,” Hubby says as he turns right to an empty street. “It’s just a fun run. Nobody dies in a fun run.”

“Oh yeah? What if I…” And here I rattle off thirteen worst-case scenarios which include me being chased and mauled by a pack of hungry Dobermans. My final words as I’m being eaten alive by those ravenous beasts would be “See? I told you so.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hubby says, dismissing my fears like the horoscope section. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

I take a deep breath. The rush of oxygen to my lungs calms me down a bit. Maybe he’s right. It’s just a fun run. Nothing can possibly go wrong, right?

* * * * *

After parking the car and pinning our race bibs to our shirts, Hubby and I make our way to an open field where a crowd of Megamall proportions has assembled. Out here are people of different ages, fitness levels, social status, and --- as can be gleaned from the cycling shorts worn by a few intrepid males --- penile measurements.

And all of us are here because we have something to prove to ourselves. Like that grandfather over there. He’s here to prove that his body, though not as sprightly as it once was, could still cross that finish line, arthritis be damned. And that teenager over there, the one wearing his school uniform and stretching his calf muscles (mmm, nice butt), perhaps he’s here to prove that he’s still good enough for the varsity team despite failing to make it this year. And I bet that girl over there, the stick figure wearing a pink visor and standing under a shade, is here to show her boyfriend, the muscle-head beside her, that she can be sporty too.

And me. What am I here to prove? That I love Hubby enough to do things I loath to do? (“But, Misterhubs, you’ve proven yourself enough by eating fish for him,” says the Grecian chorus.) That determination can overcome flat-footedness? That people can die in fun runs?

Hubs interrupts my thoughts with a covert instruction. “Check out the guy in a white cap. Three o’clock. Near the booth.” My eyes follow the precise coordinates and --- whoa --- Mister Muscular Masturbation Material. Mmm. Makes Misterhubs Moist. He should be the one wearing cycling shorts; not that dweeb next to him with the micro-genitals. “See that?” Hubs asks. I nod my head. We both lick our lips.

That’s one of the things I treasure about our relationship, that we can both ogle at the same piece of meat without feeling pangs of insecurity or jealousy, unlike other couples. Somehow I can’t imagine my friend Gwyneth telling her boyfriend Eric, “Gosh, check out that guy’s ass. Don’t you just wanna rim the shit off that thang?” and Eric saying, “Hell yeah!”

I’m still savoring Mr. Muscular Masturbation Material when another guy walks into my peripheral vision and steals my attention away with his action figure biceps, Okabe-esque profile, and skimpy shorts, the sort only serious runners and gay aerobics instructors would dare wear. A breeze lifts his shirt up for a few seconds, giving me a glimpse of his hairy, vacuum-packed abs. Mmm. Slurp.

“So... do you still think coming here’s a bad idea?” Hubby asks.

But before I can even open my mouth, he says, “I told you so.”

(To be continued.)

15 comments:

Alvin said...

i'm going for a run this evening, hahaha. hoping to see some of the cuties on their mountain bikes again... (it's a terrain run with steep uphill gradients, so it's easy to keep/catch up) ;)

rOckY said...

I can't imagine not being able to ogle with my partner - don't all couples get to do that? Don't all queer friends? A travesty if this is not the case! =P

Looking For The Source said...

hmmmp! kainiz! nabitin na naman ako...

anyways, dapat tlga ganun... para kaung bestfriends... although may magseselos... you just brush it off and not make it a big deal. not unless one of you is really digging for another one... now that's something to be jealous about.. for real!

+YOUTHLEADER said...

interesting and waiting for you to continue the story that perhaps can give your readers a better outlook of the scenario..... hope there is no major twist in the story heheheh

+YOUTHLEADER said...

interesting and waiting for you to continue the story that perhaps can give your readers a better outlook of the scenario..... hope there is no major twist in the story heheheh

kath said...

Somehow I can’t imagine my friend Gwyneth telling her boyfriend Eric, “Gosh, check out that guy’s ass. Don’t you just wanna rim the shit off that thang?” and Eric saying, “Hell yeah!”

--- I could not stop laughing. You always make my day Misterhubs.

Mugen said...

I was about to rant again on my blog tonight.

But I changed my mind after reading your entry. Thanks Misterhubs.

loudcloud said...

i shall refrain from commenting and suspend my expectations until i read the conclusion.

no, wait, THIS is a comment.

ok, then. cant resist.

joaqui_miguel said...

"That’s one of the things I treasure about our relationship, that we can both ogle at the same piece of meat without feeling pangs of insecurity or jealousy, unlike other couples."

It probably goes with security with each other, maturity and this thing called love that exist between the 2 of you. :)

Anonymous said...

hi misterhubs! i love your writing! i can't believe i did nothing but read your blog the whole afternoon (at work, bad ko ano?). you've got me hooked! thanks to brian gorell for referring

Kiks said...

hmmm, pinoy runners may really look different...

Anonymous said...

"Mister Muscular Masturbation Materia"- so funny!!! hahaha

Anonymous said...

"Mister Muscular Masturbation Material"- so funny!!! hahaha!;P

tomas said...

hahahahahahaha...good post

efrenefren said...

misterhubs, mas maganda sana kung may pictures. para sa mga indi masyadong imaginative. :D

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