Running is as appealing to me as having a porcupine shoved down my windpipe. Other people either don’t think so, or they enjoy feeling quills burrowing through their trachea. I know this because I often see people running, even in the winter. For those of you who don’t live up north, January graces us with tons of snow in an effort to weed out the less effective cars on the roads.
That said, if you’re in the mood for repeated near-death experiences, running is definitely for you. They try to lure you in with the promise of a “runner’s high.” One pictures a shady looking wacko skulking about in the shadows, slurring out, “Hey man, you wanna get a runner’s high?” I suppose it’s some kind of rapture moment, but I never got that “runner’s high”everyone always talked about.
Generally, you hear people talk about the runner’s high the same way well-adjusted people talk about the unicorns that live in their dishwashers. That said, there are two ways to get the runner’s high. The first method is to run until you feel as though every organ and every cell in your body is about to explode, turning you into a multicolored puddle. Your life starts flashing in front of your eyes (typically all the moments you weren’t running, which I hope is most of your life), and then you see iguanas doing the Carlton.
The second method is a lot simpler. Just interpret searing pain in your lungs and legs as being “high.” The pain will be so intense you’ll believe there’s a unicorn living in your dishwasher.
How do I know all of this? I draw on my enormous amount of experience I gleaned from my two years in high school track and cross country as well as my complete lack of success in either of them. Before I learned how to muscularize myself, I had to find alternate ways of increasing my social status. After careful thought and reflection, I landed on the brilliant idea of running cross country in high school. Finally, my social awkwardness would vanish like a politician’s drug charges, and people would be breaking down my parents’ door to hang out with me. Girls would be lining up to see me run around in the woods, because cross country is far more interesting than football. I know this because I am incapable of accepting reality.
My coach was a nice guy. He was born in 1830 and ran cross country back when meters used to be yards. He had a way of speaking that made it very difficult to hear him, mostly because I didn’t listen to him that often.
Cross country races are a lot like football games though, just without the excitement, the social relevance, and any entertainment value whatsoever. As far as audience numbers, you’ll get some family members here and there. You’ll see them wandering around talking to plants in an attempt to prevent themselves from jumping into traffic. The remaining ten fans are only there to fulfill court-ordered community service.
All of that said, I’m considering a future career as a stay-at-home cross country coach. It’s a new market, and I really think I’ll be able to get it up and running, especially with amazing puns like that.
So, if you really want to learn how to run, I’ll be glad to oblige. You might think it’s simple, but that’s only because you’re stupid—and I’m not insulting you because I’m trying to justify all the time I spent running around in the woods. Nor am I lashing out because of my staggering lack of success in high school cross country. I’m far too sophisticated for such base behavior.
For only $499 a week, I can teach you all the intricacies of running right from my laptop. But just to show you what a stand-up guy I am, I’ll give you a few of my exclusive running lessons for free:
- Realize your life has amounted to nothing
The first step can be achieved by overcoming denial, so don’t feel bad if you struggle with it.
For you more advanced runners out there, you can always train for your first marathon. If you’re new to running, “marathons” are events where hundreds of people get together and pretend that running 26 miles is enjoyable.
If you’re not quite that ambitious, then there are the ever popular “hill workouts.” That’s when you find a hill that will induce vertigo, then run up and down it until your heart explodes like a water balloon.
Fortunately, I’m not bitter. I’ve said all of this because I have a healthy relationship with my shortcomings. But if you do want to hire me as your trainer, I’ll give the first 10 applicants the chance to feed the unicorn that lives in my dishwasher.