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Saturday, June 23, 2012


I don't like to run.

At all.

It is not fun to me.

Now you can try and convince me that it's great exercise. 


Because every great exercise starts with me groaning, bitching and wishing I were dead.

I get that some people find it exciting.  They like to beat their times.  They find it relaxing.

I do not.

For whatever reason, I cannot run.  I mean, if an axe murderer were chasing me, I probably could.  But it would have to be a big axe.  Really big.

I think the reason my ancestors IQ's developed is because we were too slow to outrun the bear and were therefore forced to figure out ways to outsmart the bear.

My slowness has clearly benefited me.

But yet with this new Crossfit thing, I am being forced to learn to run.

I very seriously can walk faster.  No joke.

I have a big, fat butt.  I have skinny, weak ankles.

Explain to me why it's a good thing to force the issue?

Everyone I know seems to be running marathons or half marathons.

I run errands.

I did "run" a 5k.  A kindergarten class beat me.  They were juicing.   Capri Sun. Not the waters, the full juice.  The hard stuff.  And I am NOT making this up.

So I plod and waddle along.  I hear that someday I may enjoy it.

Don't hold your breath.

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