Hi everyone! I haven’t written a blog in 3 months! Did anyone notice? Anyone? Trent?
I felt like a brain break from running. Not an actual break from running (horrors!), but a space of time where I couldn’t care less about thinking/blogging/facebooking/logging/tweeting/bragging/advising/arguing about running. As we all know, running is stupid. I’m the first one to heartily endorse wasting untold hours of time on stupid things (hello, the Swamp), but every now and then it is refreshing to step away from one’s own stupidity. (That sounded stupid.)
Anyway, I’m totally looking forward to returning to the wringing of hands and furrowing of brows over the maddening complexities of putting one foot in front of the other. IT’S IMPORTANT!
It’s been a while since my original “Extremely Inflammatory Topics” blog, but boy oh boy, that was a gem. I got to both vent and piss people off, and, really, isn’t that the whole point of blogging? Therefore, I’d like to present another group of petty and unimportant issues to crab about. These are presented in random order with no cohesive form. Enjoy!
Hi! Newbie Here! How can I can get faster without having to actually run? LOL!! 🙂 🙂 🙂
I am, like, SO serious. I mean, there must be an easier way. I like the idea of being a runner and all, but the running isn’t always fun!! Sometimes it’s uncomfortable!! LMAO! But really, think about it. Everything has been made easier—Everything! Why not running?
For example: look at that Smuckers pre-made PBJ sandwich thing that looks like two bleached spleens that have been stapled together. I’ve never had one, but all I can say is THANK God someone invented an instant peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Having to make one of those things is just exhausting! First off, there’s all that hauling of jars, pulling out of bread slices, and, oh, the utter languor that sets in just thinking of having to pick up a knife and spread stuff. And then, as if that whole ordeal weren’t enough, you’re forced to lift the two laboriously-prepared sides and smash them together! Think you’re done? Think again! If you can keep your eyes open, the final death march involves cutting the sandwich in half.
Anyway, I think I’ve proven my point. LOL! Any tips on how to improve my running without running would be appreciated. 🙂 🙂
I’m Training for a Marathon and GAINING Weight!!! What GIVES?
Every spring and fall, this ultra-lame topic gets bandied about like so many Hostess Cupcakes in a fat kid’s lunchbox. There’s a lot of boo-hooing about how it’s just NOT fair, followed by some defensive chatter about genetics, slow metabolisms, and being big-boned. Next comes some group back-patting while weighing (pun!) the benefits of being a tub-ola marathoner versus an anorexic elitist prick. Finally, once the group is feeling safe in its mutual flabalanche*, there’s some truly jolly chatter about everyone’s favorite teensy marathon training treats.
Here’s a tip, sister: 8 slabs of bacon on an egg and cheese explosion, a quart of Yoo Hoo, 37 Chocolate Blowout gels during the run, and 5 Super Pixie Stix for extra energy may possibly, possibly, have something to do with that confounding puzzler of weight gain.
Remember! Running a zillion miles is NOT an excuse for eating to excess. It’s an excuse for drinking to excess. Geez Louise.
Damn it! I Just Updated Facebook about My Running for The 20th Time Today! Somebody Compliment Me!
Let’s face it (pun central!), Facebook is basically a tool (heh heh) for making ourselves appear popular and terrifically busy every living second of our boring little lives. As runners, this is a dream come true. After all, we’re better than everyone else to begin with since we dedicate 5-10 hours a week to doing something mindless and self-involved. Clearly, our friends need to be notified about this semi-hourly. If we can’t make others feel bad, what’s the point of running at all?
Getting ready to go to Kroger to buy some epsom salts to soak your disgusting feet in? Tell everyone you know! Tried to run three miles and only got to 1.8 because you had to poop? Why, I think every person you’ve been even remotely acquainted with since the 8th grade needs to hear about that! Had a hangnail on your little piggie toe that tore and bled all over your new shoes but you’re just so darned stubborn that you kept running anyway and then it started hailing frogs, but, determined and crazy trooper that you are, you didn’t stop and then you got lost in Siberia and had to run an extra billion miles and then…
At this point, if there isn’t a sprinkling of thumbs-up “likes” thingies and at least 7 responses of “YOU GO!” and “Woot!” and (most treasured), “You are so incredible! I could NEVER run like that!!” then the poster’s computer will begin to slowly melt into a multi-colored puddle of steam and bubbles.
Runners: Don’t Forget to Bring Your Own Fluids Tomorrow…and a GUN!
I don’t know if this is just a Tennessee/Southern thing, but every few months there is an entirely serious debate on a local running message board about whether or not to carry a pistol when out for a run in “questionable” areas.
Young ladies are particularly encouraged to haul firearms along. It has been recommneded that one’s bazooka be swaddled in bubble wrap and positioned carefully in a fanny pack so that you don’t blow your own ass off when transitioning into a fartlek. (I’m not making this up!). I’m guessing that when a threat is perceived, like someone waving at you, you can defend yourself by stopping, turning the pack around to your front, unzipping it, carefully lifting your piece out, unfolding the layers around it, repacking the wrap so as not to litter, and aiming.
Now that’s what I call safety!
And where are these “questionable” areas? I’ve run alone everywhere from a mall parking lot in Yonkers to an abandoned trail in the Yukon and never felt threatened. One time a guy with a laughably small weenie flashed me in Golden Gate Park. Another time, some dork with his shorts pulled up to his chest ran behind me yelling, “Just checking out your stride! You oughter shorten it!”
No, the only areas that seem “questionable” to me are the fancy pants neighborhoods full of manic bubbas on cell phones behind the wheels of overblown SUVs. I have felt threatened on a regular basis in these areas. And, typically, these are the areas that house the people who own the guns who raise the alarm about those “other” questionable areas.
Isn’t life one big wacky circle of irony?
I don’t care if she has a penis growing out of her ear…She grew up, trained, and competed as a woman. She’s a woman.
* “Flabalanche” is a MikeyMike trademarked term. Used by permission. Well, not really.