run, forrest, run!

well, there was a time, oh, eons ago, when i was young and fancied myself invincible, that i was a cross-country runner. this lasted all through high school, and even on into my adult years.

then i fucked my knee up in the mosh pit at an agent orange concert, (and yes, they are old, but they still got it, man!), and had to take some time off to heal. at the time i was just starting to train to do a marathon, and not just any, but one of the most grueling marathons in the us.

so, i lazed off, spent more time with my wife, got fat, etc etc etc.

today i started running again. a mile and a half around my neighborhood, slowly, and it felt really damn good. not, i should point out, as good as it used to when i was 16, or even 26. there are a few noticable differences.

first of all, i'm lugging around at least 30 more pounds than i was the last time i ran, and 50 more than the last time i ran competetively. that's pretty damn hard on knees, ankles, and feet. also, i can feel it bouncing with each stride, and that is so absolutely gross to me that i spent the whole time i was running trying to simultaneously hold my stomach in, which is hard on my lower back. needless to say, i will be sore in spots i wouldn't normally be sore in after a run.

also, the newest development, and most horrific, (and i should warn you, those of you with weak constitutions should stop reading now!) i have fat-boy thighs. you know what i'm talking about. if you've ever seen a slightly chunkier person running (and we all have. and we've all pointed and laughed probably too, i know i have. karma's a bitch.), you've probably noticed that the inside legs of their shorts bunch upwards towards their crotch, making a kind of a-line up into the junction of their legs.

my shorts do that now. and it's not fun. not only is there the psychological pain of knowing you've got fat thighs that rub together (and further knowing that anybody who passes also knows), but there's also the physical discomfort when all that cloth ends up bunching right up behind my junk.

now, ostensibly, i could adjust, but i am already a very uncouth runner as it is. i hock loogies when my throat gets full, and spit 'em right out on the road, i wipe my runny nose and slobbery mouth on my sleeve, or shoulder, or front of my shirt, whichever is easiest to reach at the time. i wear a ball cap that gets sweatstains down the bill and up the crown. so the last thing i need as i run down the road is to be jacking my stuff for all the world to see. i just won't do it.

now, you would think from the preceding description that i am swearing off running. quite to the contrary, i'm am more determined to keep it up, as i want all these things i'm complaining about to disappear. plus, i think if i can keep it up, i may be able to participate in some 5k's this summer.

in the meantime, if you see a guy running around with a jiggley belly and spit and snot on his shirt, a loogie dribbling off his chin, a sweaty ball cap, and his shorts all bunched up in his crotch, please be kind and wait till he gets past you to point and laugh. thanks.

darth sardonic