I had read somewhere about the importance of carbo-loading before a race. I had no idea what that meant, except to assume it meant to gorge of carbohydrates before a race. (I need to interject here that I can be a very convincing bullshitter who knows nothing about what he’s talking about.) I explained my understanding of carbo-loading to Lolo, and 7:30AM of the morning of the run found the two of us in her kitchen eating spaghetti. Piles of it. Until we both waddled out wincing as we held our guts.

It was a historic race, the first 10K in what is now an annual event. I cheered and hugged Lolo as she loped across the finish line. I had reached the finish line much earlier, only because I made it three blocks from the start before the cramps told me to quit. But Lolo, who was much smaller than me but ate the same quantity of pasta, literally gutted it out and ran that whole damn race. The next year she swam across Mobile Bay, just ‘because she could’. (I still have the souvenir t-shirt she had printed for the event.)

Joe says we all have ‘Lolo’s’ in our life, but few of us have been blessed with having this Lolo. She left journalism, which is a loss for some of us. But I’m sure she is one hell of a teacher.

That’s exactly what I thought of when I saw the name “Lolo.”

Also agreed that Joe would be the most frustrating Professor to have. One of the coolest, and I’d love talking baseball with him, but it would be a chore to take notes in that class.