T.G.I.F

That wonderfully well-known phrase, “T.G.I.F” has been making its way around offices and meeting rooms for decades. Perhaps less well-known though is the popular theory that this phrase was coined by Ohio disc jockey Jerry Healy, sometime in the early 1970s. While TGIF, and its meaning “Thank God It’s Friday” may seem to be obvious and rather straightforward, at the behest of the Japanese alcohol slowly being metabolized in my bloodstream, I would like to muse as to what this phrase means to runners, or as they are more colloquially known, counter-culture-fringe-dwelling-weirdos. As the beer flows freely and gloriously from my Japanese beer can to a tilted and frosted glass, a celebratory cascade to put a period on the sentence of my day, I think ahead to tomorrow morning’s run. An evening without a beer, could very well be described as a garden without a flower, or a day without a sunset – and a morning without a run is also worthy of similar figures of speech. As the six pack bought at the local convenience store begins to do a disappearing act worthy of an applause from David Copperfield, I convince myself of those functional and helpful carbohydrates found in beer. I convince myself that beer is mostly comprised of water and that I am indeed hydrating myself for tomorrow’s run. I convince myself that the yeast used to make the beer is a living organism, that will breathe life into my dead legs tomorrow morning. I convince myself that such an old, traditional and customary beverage must be healthy – the first evidence of beer consumption appears to be with those lively Sumerians around the year 4000 BC. I heard a rumour, started by me, that those Sumerians were fine distance runners in the mornings around Sumeria, modern-day southern Iraq. What I don’t need convincing of though is the pure joy of hearing a beer can crack open after a long day and the relaxation that ensues. That feeling is something I shouldn’t be running from!