A sad start to a new year: a runner's diary (part 2) [Humor]


8:58 a.m. – We make it to Cherokee Park just in time.  We probably would have gotten there sooner had I realized the starting line was in a different place than the one for the previous race.  I spend ten minutes following five other cars aimlessly through Cherokee Park looking for the start.  I’m encouraged to learn that there are at least five people in Louisville equally or more stupid than me.  Because of our lateness, I am not able to stretch before the race.  This might be troublesome considering as a high school senior, I was voted “Most Likely to Rip Both Hamstrings Simultaneously While Trying to Engage in a Physical Activity I’m Clearly Unprepared to Do."

9:00 a.m. – WE’RE OFF!

9:01 a.m. – I realize that in my rush to leave the house, I accidentally grabbed the iPod used by my 6 year-old daughter.  For extra motivation, I imagine I am being violently stalked by the Wiggles who are screaming some sort of horsesh*t propaganda about fruit salad being yummy yummy.

9:05 a.m. – I’ve spent a solid five minutes running up hill, which seems like a cruel way to start a race.  Glancing at my fellow runners, I realize I’m not the only one who feels this way.  With beet red complexions and cramped faces, we look like a bunch of giant babies straining to crap their diapers.

9:09 a.m.  - I’m completely exhausted from a lack of sleep.  Furthermore, the two jelly donuts are resting in my stomach like a pair of shot put balls.  Finally, due to my lack of stretching, I now feel my left leg slowly being pulled up in to my body cavity. 

9:16 a.m. – My daughter has decided to keep pace with me.  Not because it’s a nice bonding moment, but so she can ridicule me the entire way.  She reminds me that she won’t think any less of me if I don’t finish the race, because it’s mathematically impossible for her to care less than she already does.  I take solace in the fact that she has a limited knowledge of genetics.

9:19 a.m. – Wait – another hill?  My shins have begun staging a revolt against the rest of my body.  My daughter decides to make a pre-emptive call to 911 telling them to send an ambulance over in 10 or 15 minutes.

9:20 a.m. – I am disturbed by the amount of  2 Live Crew my 6 year-old has on her iPod.  She also has several speeches by Che Guevara, which if you knew her, makes total sense.