Avoiding the obstacle run

My friend, Darlene, has been pestering me for weeks to join her for a 5K inflatable obstacle course run of which I had energetically been avoiding for an equal amount of time. I believe I may have dropped several calories by simply dodging Darlene. But Darlene was determined and would not be thwarted by my exhaustive list of excuses. I carefully chronicled my injuries:
1.  40 pound Greek and Latin workbook box shoulder injury. "That happened when you were still teaching 6th grade," Darlene countered, "plus you described your miraculous recovery despite months of atrophy."
2.  Kickball knee. "Again...6th grade."
3.  Monkey arm. "You need to let that one go," Darlene sighed, "getting scared at the movies while simultaneously reaching for popcorn would immediately be rejected by even the most compassionate workman's comp claim."
4. I knew I had her with this one...Blueberry foot. "Okay... that one WAS actually pretty recent," Darlene admitted. But I could still see the gleam of secret hope in her eyes.

And then, of all people, Brad Mosiman saved me. "Hey, I'm going to need the truck Saturday," he told me. "What for," I stupidly wondered. Note-to-self:  Rarely is a real truck used for "fun." "I'm hauling and unloading three tons of pellets," he explained.

Oh.

All right. This was a tough one. Could I get away with sitting on the couch, watching television, while this activity occurred right outside my living room window? I could close the drapes maybe. And turn up the volume. Was it too late to call Darlene and participate in a 5K inflatable obstacle course run? How much could three tons of pellets possibly weigh? (Yeah...I know) I mentally brainstormed every expletive in my repertoire before engaging in the ridiculous conversation where I show a somewhat sincere intent to help while Brad insists that he is glad to do it himself.  From the picture, you might notice that, somewhere along the line, Sydney must have had a similar conversation with her father. So I whiled away the morning moving massive bags of pellets thinking, "All this and I don't even get a free t-shirt." "There was also games, music and food," Darlene described later. Dagnabbit. All I got for my trouble was a case of Pellet pelvis.