HEY BUD!!!

HEY BUD! It's always been our rallying cry. We always greet each other with a loud "HEY BUD!" Drinking? "HEY BUD!" Really drinking? "HEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY BUD!" For our spouses, our significants, our children, the poor old souls sitting next to us at the bar -- it gets annoying, I'm sure.

This weekend, HEY BUD! takes on a whole new meaning in the lives of my friends and myself. In 20 minutes or so, CDL will pick me up and together we'll head to the airport for a trip to Boston. There, we will meet up with 12 of our best friends, guys with whom we drank, studied, read, ran, fought, and did more things I'll never talk about with anyone else but them (I'd rather die -- seriously). Guys with names like 8-Ball, Riverbark, Ween, Danger, Hammer (that's me, actually). A dangerous group? Only to ourselves. We'll drive up to New Hampshire and participate in the 200+ mile Reach The Beach distance relay. I'm sure to die there, actually. The running is going to be hard, as will be the laughter. Thanks be to Doc for supporting me throughout my training, the physical and financial workouts (therapy, orthotics, massage -- ugh). I wonder if the promise of me not returning spurred her support?!?

So, if you're relaxing on the couch and enjoying a beverage sometime around 10pm on Friday, feel free to raise your glass and shout a hearty "HEY BUD!" as it will be then when I will be embarking on my first of three relay legs. And if you're still drinking at 4am when I start leg two, well, get some help.