I think I’ve become insane due to addiction.
I spend my evenings scouring active.com looking for running events to participate in, always hoping for a cool t-shirt premium. I am scheduled for 5K races virtually every weekend and a 5 mile race in November. I have created my own gym training program to work on speed and endurance, which I partially credit for knocking over three minutes off my 5K run time between July and now. I felt like a douche for not participating in any aspect of the Baltimore Running Festival last weekend and have vowed to run the Frederick half marathon in May, a distance I’m pretty much already trained up to run and complete.
If I’m not racing on a weekend I’m running 8-10 miles around town, even though I wonder what the fuck did I just do that for as soon as I finish and feel shamed the way a 13 year-old feels right after rubbing one out (ok, maybe that was just me). I bought a fucking fuel belt, for crissake. And tights (!) for cold weather running (if it actually decides to get cold around here this year). I track how many miles (169.84 and 162.15) I have on my TWO pairs of premium running shoes, which I will only wear while running on the road/treadmill or walking from the locker room to the treadmill at my gym. I have a Road ID bracelet and really want a Forerunner 305 (thankfully, the jew in me won’t allow me to buy one).
Running is kind of like a crack addiction, and it’s becoming almost as expensive as one for me. Whoever said all you need to run is a pair of shoes and desire is a moron. It’s not that simple. My increasingly vast collection of compression shorts and non-cotton hi-performance running socks alone can attest to that.
It’s all better than sitting on the couch eating Doritos, I guess. Although Doritos are mighty tasty.
Would it be possible that you were already insane and found another outlet for your “mad ramblings” in the form of running? Perhaps it is just an obsessive need to throw yourself completely into running?
In any event, I need to get myself some of that insanity/obsession. I really want to get back to the running thing I had going in the spring, but I just keep starting and stopping of late.
I just bought the exact same pair of tights for winter cycling on Saturday. I keep calling them “leggings,” but who the fuck am I kidding? I’m dreading the day I actually have to wear those things in public. You may feel a little embarrassed with all that running gear; but trust me, nothing makes you look like more of an imbecile than cycling gear… although those hydration belts do look pretty retarded.
eebmore: at least you don’t have to wear pasties. Ha!
JJT: More a function of my not being able to swim thanks to a permanently bum shoulder. I ramble madly enough to people in private to satiate myself.
eebmore: There’s no putting lipstick on that pig. They’re tights. The fuel belt does make feel like I only need a football helmet to get on the short bus, but I do snicker at the cyclists who zoom past me with their NASCAR flavored spandex outfits. Like just any schmo has 40 sponsors to plaster all over a jersey.
Kristine: I don’t do pasties. I’m a SportsShield man. Nothing says manly like applying a roll-on to your nipples. And that is still yet another running expense.
HAH! Did anyone else notice how Under Armour assumes everyone is a fucking moron?
The tagline:
coldgear
for when its cold
Well no shit! Thanks UA! I never would have been able to figure that out on my own.
Kristine, I don’t HAVE to wear pasties. I CHOOSE to wear pasties… with tassel’s… as they make me feel pretty.
Cheese, on the pretend sponsorships, EXACTLY. I’ve been avoiding that crap like the plague; but it’s beginning to get cold enough in the morning that sweaty cotton is beginning to become a problem… and I’m going to give myself pneumonia if I don’t switch over to something more appropriate… so I’m buying up Under Armour running gear, which does the same thing for less money. Only problem with that is the UA is generally not bright enough, which raises the possibility of me getting killed. But that’s the paradox, if I ever suited up plastered with fake sponsorships, I would WANT drivers to run me over.
Now that you’re a runner, you should be able to chow on the junk food whenever you want. Just don’t stop running. (I know from experience.)
Yeah, eating like a pig would likely unravel everything I’ve accomplished this year. That’s a great idea.
I am going to need you to take a picture of yourself with all of the gay gear on so I can see just how gay you are.