Saturday, February 12, 2005

Here's the conclusion I've come to. If your hobby requires plunging your crotch into ice cold water afterwards, then this is a sign that you have chosen a bad hobby.

As I've mentioned many times before, I seem to have become afflicted with some sort of marathoning disease. There's really no good reason for it. I don't enjoy running, nor do I think that running marathons is really good for the human body. Moderate and rational amounts of cardio exercise are good for the body, but running a marathon is overkill, causing more harm to the joints and other tender bits than good.

Regardless, it's what I do. And the Boston Marathon is 9 weeks away, which means that today was my first long training run. After two-plus joint-pounding hours of running, I was done. What's my reward? Is it ice-cream? A massage? Sweet sweet lovin'? No! It's an ice-bath!

An ice-bath, as you may recall, is where you fill the bathtub with c-c-c-cold water, dump in a big pile of ice, and then submerge the lower half of your body into this delightfully refreshing torture tub. It's a horrible horrible way to spend 15 minutes of your life, but there's really no more effective way to prevent soreness and inflamation.

What other hobby requires an ice bath? I'm hard pressed to think of any others. Ok, maybe strip-club patron. I think it's safe to say that attending a strip club has certain joys that running for 2 hours does not. Like naked breasts in the face, for one.

Anyway, I filled up the tub and my penis immediately shriveled up inside itself in some sort of Escher-inspired self-defense maneuver. As it turns out, the penis doesn't really have a great number of defensive mechanisms at its disposal. I can think of three, tops:

1) The Puffer Fish - This is where the penis inflates itself to its mightiest size, attempting to intimidate foes through sheer volume. Note that this technique only works for some men.

2) The Cannon - This technique involves launching a powerful projectile, composed of roughly one teaspoon of hot salty fluid. Some people fear this fluid, others covet it.

3) The Turtle - You get the idea.

So, after my penis adopted its turtle stance, I then wrestled my lower body into the ice water, and the entire bottom half of my body promptly turned into a giant goose pimple. I was half-man, half-pimple, with no visible penis. If I was forced to pick one word to describe myself at that point, I think I'd choose "sexy". Hmmmm, ladies?

The Boston Marathon is on April 18th. On April 19th, I pick a new hobby

3 comments:

nomax said...

Do not show up for the Boston Marathon on April 19th unless you want to be running in heavy traffic, and alone.

Mike said...

Nomax, as always, is correct. I made a classic off-by-one error, which is what we programmers do.

I shall now be violating the Blogger's Code of Ethics by modifying my post to correct this atrocity.

Mike said...

Zelda, to be perfectly honest, this blog is just a tool for me to get chicks. I'm going for a non-threatening/no-penis approach. I think it's gonna work.