So, it's Winter. It's a Winter morning, a cold, cold Winter morning. I looked out the window, trying to find the beauty of the season, something I'm not overly successful at during this time of year. I mean, people who do find the beauty in Winter are often under the influence of something that they take/drink/shoot up during this time of year so that they don't lose their shit. Whatever they take must really change the way Winter looks and feels to them , and I'm going to have to find me some of that stuff someday. Until then I will just bitch about it and sometimes cry. (if I have a cold.)
Anyway, this morning, I was looking out the window, considering suicide, and I saw a man running. No, not running away from something or someone, not running to save a person's life, not running home from his night job to see his wife and kids because he misses them so much and only works a shitty night job because he wants to provide them with Kraft Dinner and Hamburger Helper. No. He's running because he wants to. Because he's special, you see.
He has even purchased a very special and very expensive name brand running suit and running shoes just so that he can run in the most efficient way. I'm not sure what means, but I heard that mentioned in the commercial for running shoes once when I was waiting for Dr. Phil to come on. But I do
Maybe he believes that if he does everything right, he will live forever, that because he is so special (I mean really, he is probably one of the few people who are out running this morning, so in some ways he is "special.") Yeah, he will be probably be one of those old old guys that the local news interviews to find out the secret of his longevity and he'll credit something like eating a cantaloupe and drinking a thimble full of whiskey every day. Yeah. Now THAT's special. But right now I bet he thinks he looks pretty sexy and somehow that will result in many sexual encounters with beautiful women, or in a pinch, a supermarket Cougar. Yes, this guy is running on a brutally cold morning in December because...... Oh for god's sake I don't fucking know why. I only know that it is something I would never consider in a million fucking years. And yes, I realize that that comes as a complete surprise to you, considering my super fit body.
I must confess, I don't really like exercise of any kind. *passing the smelling salts.* I only run if I have to. For instance, I have, on several occasions, run from nuns. Now, that is what God gave us legs for - survival. Not so that we can dress them up in expensive workout attire, not so we can show everyone how fit we are, so fit that we are barely breathing hard. No. We have legs so we can run to save our ass. Period. And if you had seen the way this guy was running you would know, his ass wasn't in any danger whatsoever, and he had never spent a day with a nun during That Time Of The Month.
Truth be told, (ha) I have only exercised on purpose a handful of times in the '80's when Jane Fonda and Olivia Newton John told me to, and only if I had a sweat band, a pair of legwarmers and a pair of knarly high tops handy. Besides, who says we need to purposely exercise. I mean, you burn calories just by thinking about it. At least that's what I think to be possibly true and confirmed by scientists someday in the future, but not any day real soon of course.
Ok, that's it for today. It's time for me to get out there and do something or other as soon as I find the right shoes.
Or maybe I'll just watch someone else exercise.