Friday, July 27, 2012

Cheetos and Marathon Butt

I've gone and dipped my toes into the water's edge of insanity again.  Yesterday, as I was walking to the drug store to buy my usual lunch of preservative-laden, artificial cheese-flavored snack things, I had a very disturbing thought.  

Though also disturbing, this is not that thought:

You know that cool, chemically breeze that whooshes out from a freshly opened bag of Cheetos?  Am I the only one who experiences that?  I'm sure that it's some some sort of weird gaseous mixture that they seal inside the bag to preserve the freshness of the toxic neon-orange garbage I'm about to eat, but for some reason I love it.  I think it must be something akin to liking the smell of gasoline.  

That was the thought that came after the initial disturbing thought, which was:

I should run another marathon.

First of all, no...no I should not.  It was painful and agonizing for about eight solid miles and I didn't have a normal sleep pattern for months leading up to it and then my pants didn't fit right for months afterward because I had, literally, run my butt off and my clothing just sort of hung off of me and pooled into little bunches of fabric around my rear.  Marathons are not really fashion-friendly.     

So in the middle of the crosswalk, I stopped and took a step back.  What had I just said?  And why?  What demon inside had compelled me to say that?  And had anyone else heard that who could potentially hold me accountable?  I don't want to run another marathon.  To be honest, I just want my one and only marathon time to not suck soooo badly...and so publicly, at that.

But the truth is that I probably will run another one at some point even though it's a huge commitment.  That's the cycle though.  And I was warned that once I ran one...there would be others.  Like dirty little fitness cockroaches.  There are much worse cycles to get caught in though.  Drugs and cat-hoarding and mail-order catalogue shopping and whatnot.  

And anyway, seeing as how I love love love to eat things that are high in yumminess and extra super high in butter/fat/sugar/calories/bloat/regret, marathon training was quite kind to my metabolism.  My very last training run before the marathon was on the Polly Ann Trail in my lovely hometown of Oxford, Michigan.  I strategically parked my car at the exit next to the Little Ceasar's and promised myself a whole package of Crazy Bread in exchange for my efforts.  

Yes, I'm a dog.  I perform for food.  Got it.  I really love some Crazy Bread though.  

So we'll see...I'm a little late for this year's bandwagon...so maybe next year we will meet again.  

1 comment:

  1. Dear God! Don't do it!!!!! You're nuts. Although, if you do, I have a lot of extra cheering techniques I've been planning. Because lets be honest, we both know you're going to run another one. I on the other hand, will be ready to commit to a Gilmore Girls marathon and that's it.

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