Do you even run, BRO?!

5 Mar

Yesterday I ran. Sounds like not that big of a deal, but I haven’t run since the dreaded “mile” in middle school. Back then I ran an 8 minute mile (although I did cut corners when running on corner lot front yards, so maybe it was more like a 8.30 minute mile). Now it’s more like 12 minutes. Yikes.

 I’ve always avoided running like I avoided math while picking a college major. No really, I based my degree on how much math was required. Because life is a joke and so am I, because unbeknownst to me, Psychology required Statistics. As for running, there is just something terribly unappealing about being really out of breath, panting, and being in pain for 12 minutes with an ugly strained look on your bright pink face. 

I’ve always envied people who can just get out there and run. My sister is a big inspiration for me when it comes to fitness. She LOVES working out. Actually, she said it’s less of a “love” of working out and more of an extreme guilt bordering obsessive disorder thing. Same difference though, right?!?! I sometimes see her skinny ass running around Quincy while I’m driving to pick up some vino. I beep and wave the other way, or yell “whore!!!!” out the window. Don’t cringe, it’s a term of endearment for sisters when one is fit and one is not. Happens every day. Sisters can say whatever they want to each other and still have to love each other. It’s the best.

Anyways, my sister has been asking me to run this St. Patty’s Day 5k that she ran in Marshfield last year. She is one of those people who runs road races, but not one of those people who run them just to smugly collect and wear all of the road race shirts. I like her for that because those shirt collecting people are the worst. We get it, you exercise. You donate and run for causes. Get out there and buy some real clothes, scrub. I was on the sideline the day of the last St. Patty’s Day 5k, drinking out of a discrete cup, lovingly screaming “WHORE!!!” as she breezed past me. I’ve decided I am absolutely not running any 5k’s because I happen to LIKE drinking and watching 5k’s and yelling “WHORE!!!”, but I have been consistenly going to the gym 5-6 days a week for the first time in my life (you can say “good job!” and “you go girl!” in the comments if you want, that’s fine). Usually I just use the elliptical until I hit 400-500 calories. If you think that’s some weak shit, you should have seen how sedentary my lifestyle has been since I got kicked off the swim team in high school. I’ve always been the girl to wait for new fad diets. And those have always worked for me when it comes to events, but as all non-exercisers know, they are never a long term fix. This year, coincidentally around New Years, but I swear it was not a resolution, I decided I can no longer wait for hunger suppressing drugs. I cannot purposely get addicted to cocaine for weight loss. Maybe in my early 20’s, but not in my late 20’s. I have to work out. So I got up and went to the gym, and I keep going back.


You know THOSE people that work out who always say it’s hard to get into working out, but once you have a routine, you will love it? They are not me. I still don’t enjoy working out. But I like how I feel after I work out. And I like Britney Pandora. And I like seeing my daily calorie intake increase on MyFitnessPal when I log my workout. Even if I don’t want to eat those calories, they are still there…so I can drink them. What I hate: running. Still. Every evening at the gym I think to myself “I am going to run today”. Then I don’t do it. I have actually been afraid of running. My fear is that I will get on the treadmill and run, then stop after one minute and the people on machines behind me will be all like pointing and yell out “do you even run, BRO?!” and I will be the laughingstock of the gym, and I will have to fast pace walk out of the gym using one of those Monday night pizza boxes to cover my face while gym rats throw gross sweaty paper towels at me. Irrational? You ever see the movie Carrie? Bitches will pour a bucket of pig’s blood on you if you’re a telekinetic witch freak who doesn’t know what a period is. God knows what gym nuts have up their 5K braggy sleeves for people who can’t run!!! A bucket of the sweat of one thousand feces infested swine, probably!!!

Yesterday, I was feeling like a big brave dog, a la Chuckie Finster. I hopped on the treadmill, and just ran. Kind of like Forrest Gump, but only for 1 mile, sans a beard. I didn’t walk at all, just ran. I had to hold my boobs during the last quarter mile because I wasn’t wearing a sports bra, and um, yeah. Rookie. It literally hurts. But I did it. I ran.

And you know what? It still fucking sucked.




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