I think I have finally went over the edge.
And I didn’t just slip. I took a running leap and flung my white, cellulite puckered thighs, wrinkly tummy, perky boobed body over the edge. And yes…my boobs are still perky-ish after breastfeeding two spawns, so stop it. Just stop it! Pick yourself up off the floor and brush off the dog hair and crumbs you have collected down there. And STOP LAUGHING!
Yes, I flung my body.
Unfortunately my belly button ring got caught on a fucking branch and I am just dangling there waiting for the turkey vultures to start pecking at my eyes and asshole. Yes, they go for the easiest meal first. Wait…what??!?! A belly button ring at 42? Fuck you. It’s cute. Take my word for it.
Yes. I am getting to the point. Sheesh, it’s like you want to kick me off that branch and watch my lifeless, asshole-less, blind body roll down the cliff to the bottom! You people are sick!
People talk about kids having peer pressure but let me tell you…adult peer pressure sucks. At least as a kid, you are pressured into things like drinking or smoking pot. Not shit like signing up for a fucking half marathon. The healthy, good for your body shit. Not the unhealthy, good for fun shit.
I signed up for a half marathon.
Didn’t someone remind me that I don’t run? No, they fucking encouraged me to do it! Some friends I have. These are the ones who do 5K things all the time. They couldn’t just encourage me to just do a short one…nooooooooooo! I am surprised they didn’t talk me into the full marathon.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my friends and am all amazed that they run like they do. They are inspiring. Sometimes way to fucking inspiring. If they can do it, why can’t I? I am not being snarky and bitchy when I say this, they are both overweight and can run marathons…
Why can’t I do it? Because I DON’T FUCKING RUN!
Well, I guess I do now. Damn friends.
You can walk the course but I don’t want to be the lame-ass and finish last. So, I am running.
Not much. Not fast. Not pretty.
And where the hell is that fucking “runner’s high” they keep talking about? But that is a topic for another day…
I am doing it and I am running. I am gaining endurance and can actually run farther each time. So it is working. I know I won’t be able to run the whole thing. If I can run/walk it, I will be happy. I can walk 7 miles in a little less than 2 hours. I figure I can do 13 miles in about 3 hours and 20 minutes. If I run some, I can do it in under 3 hours and that is my goal.
Goals are good to have right?
Rambo, he is so supportive.
“Well, if you decide to not do it, it’s only 60 bucks. Not out a lot.”
What. The. FUCK!
Yes, he said that. Way to go boy-o. I love you too. Way to support your crazy ass wife. Whatever happened to lifting me me up and encouragement?
“Awesome honey! You are going to do it. You will look amazing by the end of summer. Okay, MORE amazing than you do now.”
That’s what he should have said.
Instead he got 1 week of headaches.
I could only last a week. A girl has needs.
Gotta go…my thighs need ice. And it’s not because I didn’t have a headache last night.