Today I want to talk about running.
I fucking hate running.
(btw - if you google "I fucking hate ____" you will find that a lot of people fucking hate some weird stuff like "unplugged" music, fireworks (who the fuck hates fireworks?!) and granny carts. Uh....)
I run because I like food. I like good food. I am from the south and I was raised on things like home made cheeseburgers and chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes and MMMMMMMMM cheesecake.
Damn that is some good looking cheesecake. If that plate of sinful delight was sitting in front of you right now are you telling me you wouldn't eat it? Lick the cherries off the top at least? Uh huh. Thats what I thought.
So I eat yummy food, therefore I run. I haven't been keeping up with it lately, however. I've been sporadic and lazy and not interested. Its so tedious and boring, and it takes a long time, and I'm always worried my track pants are riding up into my crotch, or my boobs are bouncing too much. I cant download any new music for my mp3 player because of some issue on the computer, so I'm listening to like, Spice Girls and old Madonna songs.
Even thought I'm not running, I still eat the good stuff, but I walk past my Nikes (hanging forlornly in their shoe hanger, longing for the feel of pavement on their lonely, lonely sole) without a second thought.
Yesterday I had that second thought.
Getting in the shower yesterday, I glanced back in the mirror before stepping in and, literally, gasped at the sight.
ON MY ASS, PEOPLE. No. No, no, no, no, no OH HELLLLLLL NO. I wonder how long its been back there, smirking at JP when we're doing sexy times, glaringly obvious to everyone besides me when I'm in my bathing suit. UGH.
I know, its a fact of life. Everyone has it (and if you don't you better not tell me, I don't want to hear it, you smug bitch). But the most upsetting thing about it is, it is forrreeevvvverrrrrr. FOREVER. Like herpes. Or diamonds. Never goes away.
So back to the trail. Pulled out the Nikes. Did some stretches today in preparation. Yay. So thrilled. Its 96 fucking degrees outside, and unfortunately I cant run naked (firstly, OW, and secondly, EEK), so I'm gonna sweat my ass off and I'll look like a crazy homeless person by the time I get home, but at least I'll be FIT. AND HEALTHY. Well, probably just fit cause I doubt I'll stop eating fried chicken any time soon. Baby steps, people.