So…this whole 5K thingy is apparently just a way to say self torture, right? Because it kind of felt that way especially when the couple pushing their THREE children in strollers ran past me laughing their asses off at my pace.
Assholes.
And in the first 5 minutes I felt like a giant bowl of Jell-O…but dry.
Giant dry Jell-O
On my runs by my house…the place with out other people and hills I never feel like Jell-O and no one ever snickers at my pace.
On my runs instead of a crappy Gatorade/water station where some 70 year old bitch throws her water on me because she’s whore apparently, I get cool things like….hot dogs for instance.
And vodka.
And minty fresh breath.
On my 5K loop I get to hear birds and frogs and of course the mountain lion that stalks me every run. On the official 5K I get to hear some guy singing (?) to some bad Beiber song on his ipod.
I get to hear people stomping up behind me scaring the shit out of me (if I actually pooed).
My 5K is a pretty flat, straight run, theirs….oh lets see
At the furthest point on my run I get to look at a whole field of these…that smell suspiciously like pot.
(which I am totally going to investigate at a later time…in the dark…with infrared goggles and a lighter)
At the furthest point on their 5K I get to look at all these sweaty people who really don’t look happy AT ALL! However, and this is a big HOWEVER…on their 5K at the furthest point I did NOT have a sudden urge to get back to the end of the course to make sure all the plumbing was in working order. But come to think of it, if that had happened maybe my pace would have been a little better than an 20 minute mile
(surely I jest).
On my runs when I am just about to reach the finish there certainly isn’t some douche bag who goes whizzing by me to finish his 10K…in first place.
(I also don’t kick anyone in the balls on my runs and steal their post race bagels since when their running past me caused my finish to be ignored by the announcers, or what ever you call that person who yells out your name and position, which wasn’t last okay? And apparently some of the cheering I heard at the end was actually for me not Speedy Gonzales and his whorey 6 minute mile pace.)
Even the 5K in my dream was different…I got a tiara to run the race in which was more like a hair net with crystals hanging from the edges, a very hot look if I do say so myself! For their 5K I got a giant t-shirt that I will never wear, the only glitter in sight was my eye makeup…
Yes I put on make up. The full shebang, mascara, glitter, bronzer.
What?
I heard there might be a photographer at the finish and you know what? There was….so good fucking thing I put on make up. Not that my face was BRIGHT PINK or anything by the end.
(I am either holding in vomit, being pissed that she has the same shorts…or I am silently judging those ridiculous socks. I am not sure which. )
And the funny thing is….I fucking loved it. I had a great time. So much so I am running another 5k in a week hopefully except for the fact that I think I pulled a GROIN muscle last week while I was entertaining dinner guests by doing splits on the dining table.
The crowd loved it, they always go wild for my splits, even more than the cartwheels.
So…BOOYAH!
(do people still say booyah?)
