I'm taking a coffee break from writing this paper for school on correlations between course readings in historical educational ideologies with children in cinema. It's as bad as it sounds.
So I hopped on to New York Road Runners website, and viewed a cache of photos of me from a race this past winter. I made a fascinating and previously undisclosed discovery about my appearance: during a run, when my left leg is forward, I look reasonably pretty and free of deformities; but when my right leg is forward, the tables are turned. My features take on a grotesque demeanor caused by gravitational pull, whose appearance is comparable to the expression one makes upon viewing the results of a smashed cockroache. (I can imagine that one pretty well, since I put such a creature out of his misery on my way out the door this morning).
Back to real writing.
