Saturday, September 25, 2004

Two weeks to go until the Chicago Marathon. Tick tick tick... This is the part of marathon training that I like best. It's called "tapering" and it's the period of time where you spend more time resting and less time running. Mmmmm, resting. I thought I'd take this opportunity to do a bit of reflection and self-analysis. Let's speak to my body and see how it feels about running. We'll start at the bottom:

Feet: We're against this whole running thing. Pound pound pound, that's all we get. Sometimes we muster up some blisters, just to screw with Mike, but overall we're getting the worst of the whole deal. Running sucks.

Knees: Oh, someone cares what we think? We're touched. Anyway, we're just biding our time. Remember this Mike, every knee-stressing mile you run brings you one step closer to being hobbled in your old age. We'll see who gets the laugh last, bastard.

Penis: Frankly, I find running to be a bore. There's not much for me to do. Occasionally during the long runs, I do get a bit chafed, and that's fairly unpleasant during....

(Geez, sorry about that. I had no idea he'd get into the whole chafing thing. Sorry, moving on)

Heart: I heard a theory once that everyone gets a fixed number of heart beats in their life. Sooo, all this exercise is really bringing you closer to death, Mikey. Irony kills.

Lungs: Thumbs up for running. Sure, it's a little gaspy, but it beats smoking.

Nipples: You'd think that we nipples would be ambivalent about the whole running thing, but frankly we're with the penis, figuratively speaking. Good god, the chafing! The worst is when Mike gets into a hot shower afterwards. Ohhhh, the burning! For the love of god, the burning!!

Mouth: In a word, "Icky". First there's the nasty food he stuffs into me, Power Bars and Goo. Have you ever had goo? I can't even describe it. Imagine toothpaste but in "flavors" like chocolate. Listen, I have had a lot of chocolate in my day and it's NOT SUPPOSED TO BE GOOEY! Then, to add insult to injury, evey once in a while a bug flies into me during a run. I hate bugs.

Brain: Boooooooring. Mike goes on these long runs and I'm all "Tired. Tired. Hurts. Whoops, don't trip. Tired. Hurts. Tired." There's really nothing for me to think about. Mike is all "Look at the pretty trees, brain" but how long can you do that for? I'm a finely honed analytical machine! I can do math! Man, one of these days I am just gonna check out of here. Bastard.

So, there you have it. I didn't read all the details, but I saw something about thumbs up. Woo! Thumbs up for running!

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