I've said in the past that I think runners are whackadoos. And I still hold that belief close to my heart. Close to my whackadoo, running heart. There, I said it, I guess I'm a runner. But not that kind of runner. It has come to my attention that the running community is perfectly accepting of a few, um, side effects. The first one is bloody n!pples. Oh yeah.
Thank the running gods it is mainly men who experience this. And while we're on the subject, for once in my life, I am happy to have small bewbs.
Hey girls, like to paint your toenails pretty colors? That's not going to be so easy when they turn black and FALL OFF! I have one black toenail right now.
My very favorite, the one with which I decided for certain that runners are their very own species, shitting yourself. Yeah, apparently it happens all the time. Perfectly normal, no big deal.
Well it'd sure as hell be a big fucking deal to me! It's one thing to have it happen but to not stop to clean up and keep running to the finish? If there's not a mental illness diagnosis for that, there really should be.
Also? Snot. Maybe it's because it's cold when I run but my nose runs the whole time. I've finally learned to stuff tissues in the pockets of my jacket rather than use my jacket to take care of it. Washing that bastard every time was getting old.
I run in the mornings when it's still dark and at night, also obviously it's dark. This is due to pure vanity. I don't want to be seen. I always run alone, I haven't even run with Skinny Bitch. It dawned on me recently that running in the dark, alone isn't doing me any favors. I'm always the only one out there so that in itself draws attention to me, duh. And if I was worried about my ass jiggling in the light of day, how did I imagine it looks highlighted by headlights? Duh. I won't be running alone or in the dark very soon. Like next Sunday morning, I'm running a 5K in Nebraska. I'm not quite sure what I was thinking but I've already registered and paid so I'm in. God help me and my jiggly butt.