Well, work THIS!Posted: January 15, 2012
I hate working out. I find exercise daunting before, dull and painful during, and coma-inducing after. It seems senseless in the moment. It brings the number on the scale up (yeah, yeah I know!), and it has no instant gratification factor. I’m a geek, my body is accustomed to staying indoors, out of the sun, with a gadget in my hand and my ass firmly parked on plush substrate.
In a fit of temporary insanity, I put the following item on my ever-changing Bucket List: “Run the 2012 Publix Georgia Marathon in Atlanta.” What the hell is wrong with me?!? I hate running! Running is the worst of all the torture routines in the name of good health and low body fat percentage. If humans were intended to run everywhere, we wouldn’t have invented the internal combustion engine. As luck would have it, the same day the foot race in Atlanta will be underway, yours truly will be gridding up for a motorized road race at Roebling Road in Faulkville, GA. Saved by the puck, so to speak.
Then I remember something… losing the Solo race to a couple of chicks, after slicing and dicing it over position for nine laps, because I ran out of steam and to top it off, almost fell off my bike at the bottom of Turn 8 due to an obnoxious calf cramp, which I had two more of before I finally finished the sixteen-lap race. All I could do is grind my teeth, control my breathing, and try my damnedest to not go out with a big fat DNF (Did Not Finish). Need I even mention the embarrassment of almost passing out while trying to push my bike back into the pit? If my friend, Margie, hadn’t come over, stabilized and pushed me into my spot by the nose cone, my out-of-shape, out-of-breath delirious self would have been buried under 458 pounds of German engineering.
I keep that mental image firmly in the focus of my mind’s eye, as I ready myself for yet another assault on my geeky constitution. The mental image of two girls pulling away from me, on my favorite track, after having succumbed to my body’s inability to keep up.
I hate getting passed (by a bunch of girls)!
You want to be fast(er), girl? Better do the work(out)! No, really.