I run about every other day. Not very far yet (3-4 km) but still we have to start somewhere right? I don’t know why anybody would want to run! This is, quite frankly, a rather horrible thing to do to oneself. Extreme masochists, gaining pleasure from the most horrific acts of self-infliction, refuse to run.
Masochist – “Run? That’s crazy talk! Why the hell would I do THAT to myself?”
Now, don’t get me wrong. There are times when running is a necessity. I would think that running is quite an acceptable activity under very specific circumstances. For instance, if you are presented with a situation where a rather large animal (human or otherwise) is pursuing you with intent to do harm, I would say that running is an acceptable activity. By all means – get the hell out of there! If the local hells angels chapter is rather disgruntled after just one water balloon incident -by all means – RUN! Notice that these instances of “acceptable” running are when danger confronts you. However, I notice people, and I do it myself, that seem to run without this manner of potential dismemberment right behind them. When I was a kid, wondering why I kept seeing people running. I always was looking behind them for the tiger (or other sort of exotic kid-fantasy animal). Sadly, I could never see the tiger.
After a couple months of personal research, I have concluded that running is a bad idea. I cannot come up with a suitable number of negative adjectives to describe it. Never, ever do this to yourself. You see, if you start, ignoring all the Surgeon General warnings, you will not stop. I have fallen into this trap. I plan to go running. I decide to go running. I go running, all the while wondering why? Why? Why? I cannot stop, and I guess that the first step should be to admit that I have a problem.
I have heard various propaganda campaigns that suggest that running and other physical activities will prolong your life. What if this IS true? Does this mean that I will tack on another 5 years of a bedridden, drooling, “feed me with a spoon” existence to the end of it? Why would I want this? Oh sure, they tell you that your living years will be better by being “fit” but I think that the scenario I outlined is much more realistic. You will run your whole life. You will suffer the whole time. The end of your life will go downhill, you won’t be able to run, and the nurse will tell you the airplane hanger story to get you to eat your strained peas. Remember that I am not a pessimist. I am an optimist with life experience.
Damn, I think I should start smoking just to get rid of all those “bad” years coming up at the “end”.
Recently, I bought a bunch of clothes. This is something that I absolutely hate. Its not actually obtaining the clothing, its the inevitable obstacles that the store will put in my way seemingly in order to make it just that much more difficult to actually BUY it. Change room locked? Well, you won’t mind chasing the people around the store to get them to let you in will you? One store, which I repeatedly abuse myself by shopping in, has a keypad on the change room door. Punch in the code, it lets you in. So I paid attention. The next time I needed in there, I let myself in. They didn’t like that at all. I pointed out that they should change the door code from 12345. Seriously. A few months ago I went up to the cashier in said store and asked to be let into the change room to try on some things I might want to buy. This would have taken the cashier perhaps 10 seconds, as it was next to the till. No, she said, I would have to wait in line. There were 10 people in line!! I was still standing there, dumbstruck, when another guy came up and asked the same thing. She told him he would have to wait in line as well. He, obviously slightly shocked as well, said: ” Uhhhhh… No…. I guess I’ll just change them here”. He proceeded to start taking off his pants, which got rather quick action. We didn’t have to wait in line. I was thinking of adopting a different strategy, but taking off my clothes right then and there wasn’t one of the options I was considering. Maybe next time.
Today, while walking from my car, I noticed the SFU rent-a-cops standing around a car. One of those “typical student cars” – expensive looking sports cars with all dead cow skin interiors and tinted windows. Sadly, it was sitting in the middle of the SFU B-lot, up on blocks, with all four of its tires missing. Its owner was there telling his story, whatever it was. Strangely, I was more amused than sad. I recognize this guy, and the violated car he kept angrily pointing at. This was the guy who hit me with this very same car while stalking me for a parking spot! Justice rears its ugly head years later in the form of a tire heist.
A brief word about the “B-lot stalkers” as they are known. These people follow you nearly from the door of the school out to your car, just to get your parking spot. Some of them don’t seem to care if they block traffic to do it. I guess the strain of walking more than 100 feet to a building is just too much to bear. They ought to put the fin on the roof – hunting a la Discovery channel shark special if I ever saw it. These cars invariably have one of those fin things anchored to the trunk. Some may describe it as a “carrying handle (Friesen, 1998)” but to me it just makes your pretentious sports car look like a shopping cart. I suppose it makes a difference in those few minutes when you pull up beside a like minded stranger at a stop light, rev your engines, take off like five angry biker dudes just piled out of the van behind you. I suppose, for those few minutes it is truly worth it, screaming down the hill, just before that telephone pole comes rushing up to kiss your forehead. I’m generalizing here, but the statement would stand up to most scrutiny. Of course, I drive a station wagon, so maybe my stance is somewhat biased.