======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
You know, I used to hate broccoli. Hated the smell of it, the texture of it, the taste… no matter what it was in, I wanted nothing to do with it. I held this belief for a pretty long time. I don’t know how long, but I don’t think I’m ever going to forget the moment I turned around on it.
I must have been in fourth grade when my mom took me to Panera Bread for lunch. It was the first time I remember ever going there and I had an amazing time. To be clear, I realize this might imply that I am a huge fan of Panera. I’m not. I hardly ever eat there. The reason I remember this moment is because it was the first time I ever had broccoli cheddar soup, and honestly it was an enlightening moment.
How could Panera take broccoli — something I found horrendous — and transform it into a meal that makes my mouth water just writing this? I’m not entirely sure. But after that day, I started eating broccoli more. Not by itself, but mixed into dishes. As time wore on, I ate it with fewer and fewer additives and grew to love it. Some people call that an acquired taste. I call it personal growth.
I thought the same thing would happen with running. When I signed up for the half marathon last October, it wasn’t entirely my idea. My mom had texted me to ask if I was interested, I told her I was in, and she responded with, “Good, because I already signed you up.” My fate was sealed from the start. To be fair, October was seven months away from the actual race date, so I had ample time to train. In my mind, that’s plenty of opportunities to see running as something other than just a cause of soreness, Athlete’s Foot, stress fractures, dry skin, and discolored toes. I thought it would be like broccoli, like something would trigger me to love it.
But that trigger was never pulled. Here were are, a day before the race, and I still fucking hate running. Look, I don’t mean to rant about it, but almost every aspect of it sucks. You don’t look good while running. Even if you think you do, you don’t. The only people who look good running are action movie stars chasing down a car with their sidekick in the back seat. Everyone else has sweat pouring down the crevices of their body that they didn’t know existed. What’s worse is that somehow, no matter what you’re wearing, all of this completely comes to light by the end of your run when you cross the finish line with a look of cautious triumph on your face and a look of weakness in its purest form plastered across the rest of your frail body that you just added 13.1 miles to.
The worst part for me is that I’ve actively tried to make it better. I’ve done research on building motivation to go running. I’ve talked to people who have run multiple marathons for advice. I’ve tried different playlists, built different playlists, tried different podcasts, researched podcasts, and none of it works. By the time I hit the halfway point in my runs, I’m ready for it to be over. Frankly, one of the best ways I’ve found to pass the time is to try and calculate how much longer I have left to run.
“Okay, I just hit three miles. In one more mile, I’ll be one-third of the way done, which means that if I stay on the same pace, I should only have to run for roughly another hour and fifteen minutes.”
What sucks is that there’s another element—seemingly unrelated at first—that ties into this devil’s chore that people call a half marathon. It’s that my Forrest Gump costume never arrived.
Hear me out on this. Back in August, I made it known that I was planning on becoming a Beard Guy early on. Once the thing started getting long and unruly, people started asking about it. Coworkers, family, my girlfriend, no matter who it was, they were asking the same question: How long are you planning on growing the beard?
The first few times, I said I would grow it until May. That would be the longest period of time I’ve ever had a beard. I initially said it with hesitation, fully realizing how long that would be. But the more people I told, the more I developed a plan. You see, my goal was to grow a beard long enough to dress up as Forrest Gump for the half marathon, cross the finish line, throw up a ‘gram of me dressed as the Gump with the caption, “I’m pretty tired…I think I’ll go home now.”
It would have been hilarious! To me, at least. I’m laughing just thinking about it. The problem is, I ordered the whole damn thing on Amazon, and the last piece—the tee shirt I was going to wear—never arrived. And so now, I’ve got this dumb fucking beard, a Bubba Gump Shrimp hat, and a pair of running shorts with a 2” inseam, which no longer make sense because I don’t have a shirt to tie the whole thing together.
I’m sure I’ll be able to finish the race. I’ve been training for months now, and I’ve reached a point where I’m pretty confident that once I hit a rhythm, I’ll be able to keep going forever. The problem is, if I’m not being mentally stimulated during this thing, I’ll go insane. Wish me luck. I’m going to need it. .
Respond
Charlie
Using sarcasm as a defense mechanism since 1993. At any given moment I'm either tired, drunk, or stressed out. Get at me at charliepgp@gmail.com or whatever.
@therescharlie
@herescharlie
herescharlie
Just don’t put the 13.1 sticker on your car
I always get a chuckle out of the 0.0 stickers
I feel like the 0.0 stickers are trying harder to get attention than the stickers with actual numbers on them.
How to run a marathon: Step 1. You start running, there is no step two
-Barney Stinson
Just reading this gave me shin splints.
Fact you may not have heard in your running motivation research: beer tastes better at the finish line of a half marathon than it does anywhere else.
What about the finish line of a marathon?
Mich Ultra has never tasted better than it did after 26.2 miles of hell.
Pretty sure I had a spiritual awakening drinking that beer even though I couldn’t feel anything else
Bodyglide is your friend. And prolly some bandaids for your nips. Good luck.
Never had a problem with the nether regions, but I have to have an under armour shirt for the nippies.
“Nippies” made me chuckle.
Body glide works on the nips too, saves you from basically waxing your nipple hair.
Pro tip: smoke w**d before. It’s how I made it through four years of track and cross country. Running just isn’t fun even if you’re into it.
Why would you smoke wood?
I feel like for someone who doesn’t like running, it would make the experience feel longer. Speaking as a stoner who ran cross country and track in high school.
I got cotton-mouth reading that
I feel like marathons (halves, 10Ks, etc.) are like paying for your own ticket to hell where all you get is a t-shirt and bloody nipples.
Good luck, though.
Hey they got bananas and bagels too!
The obvious solution here is to turn running into a enjoyable cheddar soup.
The best part about running is when you’re done.
Pannera broccoli cheddar soup is the goat.