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Offseason Miscellanea: Running Is Awful

It's the offseason folks, so let's talk about whatever we have to talk about to get through this thing. This week, let's laugh at the idea of me running.


This weekend I ran the 3M Half Marathon in Austin. It was a wonderful event put on by nice people who all were ignoring the fact that running is a stupid activity that no one should ever do. Running is awful. If you are thinking about taking up running, stop thinking about that. Don't become a runner, and here is an incomplete list of why.


Don't get me wrong, they are super nice people. I have been in a few sprint triathlons, and compared to triathletes runners are downright jolly. They will give you advice and cheer you on and give you unsolicited compliments. They also engage in an activity where one regularly loses toenails. If a friendly stranger ever sat down next to you and chatted you up while taking out a pair of pliers and ripping out one of their own toenails, you would be rightly horrified. That person should be studied at a secure research facility because they are a danger to themselves and possibly others.


Scoff at running to any distance runner and they will say something along the lines of, "Oh, well once you start running a bunch you get addicted to it."

Horse shit.

You may fall in love with the sense of overcoming adversity, or the sleeker sexier new you. But the actual act of running is a painful and miserable all of the time every single time. Saying you love running is like saying you love going to the dentist when what you actually mean is that you just love not having all your teeth fall out of your head.

Runner's high is a lie concocted by the running shoe lobby.


Well, you might actually. Many people take up running in the hopes of becoming sexy as hell and accomplish that feat. Those people have self control.

I do it in the hopes that destroying my knees and hating my life will afford me the freedom to continue to consume meat and cheese conglomerates delivered on carb vessels. Nachos, Frito pie, potato skins - these are the carrot-on-a-stick for me. If you are ever in Austin and see someone in full running gear maintaining a constant cadence while eating a chorizo breakfast taco, please say hi. I won't stop or acknowledge you though because I am shame incarnate.

I trained for and ran a half marathon and gained 2 pounds. Look on my works ye mighty and despair.


Around mile 5 my mind started wandering. I spent a little time calculating out my likely finish time if I maintained the blistering pace I had set to that point. Then I mused that there are a number of runners hoping to finish the Boston Marathon in the amount of time it would take me to run this half. Those people also weigh probably approximately half what I weigh, so in a given amount of time I am going only half the distance they are but I am carrying twice the weight.

So really, I'm in about the same shape as a hardcore Kenyan distance runner if you think about. #SCIENCE


I approached this thing with the correct mindset, assessing my running ability and creating a 3 month training schedule of 4 runs per week to steadily increase my long distance runs with shorter training runs in between and then tapering at the end. What I actually did was train for two months up to ten miles and then went cold turkey for a month until I attempted my first half marathon. For those new to the sport, this is exactly how they recommend training in Runner's World magazine in an article entitled How To Injure Yourself Because You Are Stupid. Well guess what!

I wasn't the only one though. The last mile of a distance run looks like the panic scene from a zombie movie. People are franticly stumbling and limping along, wracked with pain and terrified, all hoping to at least not be the person furthest back in the group. I distinctly remember one competitor pulling himself along the ground towards the finish line with one arm because his other limbs had been severed.


If you take up distance running then you exponentially increase your odds of pooing yourself. It will probably happen in a relatively public place.

Your choice, but you know... poop.


Make the right call.