I Hate Running...

I used to say that all the time. Even when the Navy had me doing it every day. Back when I was participating routinely in 5K races and training for a half marathon. I always kind of assumed it had a lot to do with my smoking since the two don't mix well for obvious reasons. Well I finally managed to quit smoking about a year ago and I've got some extra weight that I'd like to shed so I figured I'd give it a shot. With my last cigarette being a far gone memory it should be a lot more of an enjoyable experience.

What a crock of absolute shit.

All the burning, hurting, jarring, gasping hell that I used to subject myself to daily because I was forced to came screaming back. I had always wondered how in the name of John Lennon's butthole people got ADDICTED to this crap. Seriously. What kind of sado-masochistic sickko could possibly WANT to do this every day? I imagine the kind of person that would say, "Hey, let's go for a long run and then after we are finished we can murder eight or nine muskrats and finger paint with their blood."

I managed a little over a mile before I had enough and walked the rest of the way home. I walked in, still a little winded. About the time that, a year ago, I would have been lighting a cigarette and obstructing my bodies ability to absorb that extra oxygen I was getting a glass of water instead. Then it hit me, euphoria, I still felt sore and a little winded but I felt likely I could take on the damn world with only a paring knife and an issue of National Geographic. I even did some floor exercises.

Point me toward the nearest camp of muskrats...I may just be a convert.

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