I just saw a picture of myself on the 4th of July, 2010. I was about 90 million weeks pregnant, and let me just say -- I am so impressed with myself. I'm not joking. I had no idea one single human being could reach porportions of that magnitude. It was truly impressive. No wonder I was so miserable. No wonder I created shock and awe wherever I went. I had no idea how accurate I was when I said I was The H.M.S. Marie. And I say this all as a compliment to myself. Really. I am a champion.
This has to do with our topic today: the evil of running. I HATE running. Once me and my sis Trina (you may know her as T-Bomb) were runners before I had Katelyn. We were beginning runners. As in, we'd worked ourselves up to three miles. And let me tell you something: IT WAS HORRIBLE. I dislike it. I don't like it. It is torture. Sheer human water torture.
This is me not mincing words.
I know many people (many of you, in fact) who are dedicated runners. I know you even -- gulp -- love it. I fear you. I fear for all of you. My brother Nick says I have to join you.
This is because I asked him and his stupid body of pure muscle (I know... lame!) how to get rid of this last twenty pounds of belly blubber. I love my state of belly blubber because I know how far this belly blubber has come (I shall now reference the 4th of July picture of record-breaking magnitude) I told him I work really hard at Zumba and it kicks my butt and I walk also and that I am a very good person. I told him I have lost 45 pounds, which I am proud of, man, 'cause it's been blood, sweat, and tears caused by sweat running into my eyeballs. He looked at me like "Whatev" and said that most wretched of all words: "Running."
He hurt me deeply by insisting that there is just no substitute for running.
T-Bomb and I looked at each other in pure, unadulterated horror. I hate running. T-Bomb also hates running! We hate running! Running is for the popular kids! We are the unpopular kids!
WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO!?!?!?