I think it's going to get a little bit sweaty now.

My friend Tash is super hardcore racer. Her "little bike ride" usually involves up and down several mountains and would kill most people. She has no tv. She picks up her organic vegetables every week in a big box and eats every last one. You know what else? Tash likes to win.

When I told her about my Project, right away, she knew what she had to do. Because I told her some of the things on my champion list. It keeps getting longer and longer, all the stuff I need to do to become a Top Handler by way of the Village.

I can't tell you my whole list of stuff for champions. Because it's a Project. And if I end up a champion by the end of it, then I'll sell you the Secret of Championness on DVD. Quick. Limited time offer only. And that's not all!

Just kidding. You'll find out all the secrets, for free, right here on Team Small Dog. And if I totally fail, and regress to an even crappier handler, it's still free! You can't lose!

OK. Here's a preview. One of the the things on the list is flossing. It just seemed to me like something Top Handlers would want to do.

Would you pay free for that?

I've always had a problem with successful business plans.

It takes a village, and from her hut, Tash, who doesn't mess around with such frivolous things or lose focus and sit around and draw little pictures in her notebook when she could be taking ACTION, went out and found us a personal trainer.

Since neither her or me can actually afford a personal trainer, we're sharing her. Along with our friend Donna. So it's sort of personal. For the three of us. OK. And it's only once a week. This champion thing, really expensive.

This morning, while you're reading this, if you're reading in the dark and no one else is awake, not even chickens, or even turtles, I've already driven my limping along car, which, by the way, is going to have it's engine partially rebuilt next week with nice new valves and hopefully no smoke puffs, to a gym. There's no steep hills on the way to the gym. Because my car can't drive up steep hills right now. I may only drive it very gently, wearing white kid gloves.

At the gym, I'm going to get strong legs for faster running and a not wonky knee and maybe even a flat stomach.

OK, maybe not that. But maybe. I am going to venture a guess that the flat stomach part would include eliminating the hand hewn, artisanal ice cream food group from my diet.

We'll see how it goes. I've never really been in a gym, except for a long time ago when I joined one, and the badly sponge painted walls were so aesthetically offensive to my sensitive eyes that I never went back. That was that.

But the fast running. A thing we seek. And me and some of the village are going to go get trained.