This post is not about anything cultural…or is it? This morning I woke up with one goal in mind: to run farther than I ever have independent of any other person. Oh, I’ve been on long runs when other people take me along and motivate me every step. But this was to be My Run.

I started off ok and was all pumped to run my little heart out. Then it got hot, I got tired, and hope looked lost. But on I pressed and I was in the zone. And after about a half hour I thought maybe my goal (at least 5 miles) would be obtainable.

Then it hit me: it doesn’t matter how long I run. Or how far or how hard. BECAUSE, and here’s the sick thing, I’ll just have to do it again tomorrow anyway! Go to hell, running! You can’t bank exercise. So no matter how long I run or how many stupid calories I burn…I’ll just have to do it again later. 

So I gave up after 4 miles and went home to eat a bag of fried potato goodness. If I can’t bank running, at least I can bank fat.

the end

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