A few mornings ago I woke up to an email from my friend Steve with that as the subject line: feel free to slap me in the face.
Steve isn’t exactly someone you’d slap in the face. He’s a self-proclaimed “quiet Canadian” who would only ever insult you to the point of deserving a face-slapping when he’s Tucker Max Drunk. And the next day, he’d be grossly embarrassed and apologetic, as you would expect of a card-carrying member of the Nice Guys Brigade. (They have a Facebook page, you know.)
So, of course, when I saw the email, I was intrigued and opened it immediately. Any email sent at 12:10 a.m. with a subject line like that has to be good, I thought.
Here’s what Steve wrote, including typos (Because it wouldn’t be a post-midnight email from Steve without typos.) and a few comments from me in brackets and minus names and a few sordid details:
On July 17th there is a 5K in Seattle. Let’s run it together.
When [REDACTED: the name of a busybody friend who’s always giving Steve unsolicited and unwanted advice] tries to say shit to me I get pissed and I wonder why she even thinks I care what she has to say. So, if this is like that, Tell
me to shut the fuck up. I did some math and I think I know how you can
be in proper shape to run it though.
Today is 2/23 [Technically, it was 2/24, but only by 10 minutes…]
You said you hit 45 minutes on the elliptical
These are just dates with minutes you can do on the elliptical and
treadmill. I don’t think distance even matters. Just as long as you
can do these things for this amount of time by July you’ll be ready as
fuck for a 5K. And let me tell you, one of the advantages of being in
the back is all the ass you get to look at. Your life might be changed
from running after 200 asses in tight shorts, fuck the weight loss and
health, ass, [REDACTED: think of a word that would insult your sensibilities beyond belief and insert that word here.].
dates and goals
1 hour on the elip
15 on the elip
15 on the tredmil
20 on the elip
20 on the tred
7/16 – Rest!
7/17 we do a mother fucking 5K!
I know I’m a chain smoking drunk, but I do know cardio. [REDACTED: Personal confession that may or may not result in an intervention for Steve, or, at least, interfere with his ability to get hired anywhere in the greater Seattle-area. By the way, if you’re hiring, I know someone…]
And if I overstepped my bounds, i didn’t mean too, i’m just drunk and [REDACTED: participating in an assortment of criminal activities too heinous to mention in this post.]
For the last few days, I’ve been seriously considering the offer/challenge of running a 5K. Running has never been something I’ve enjoyed. Since my days as a Truffle-Shuffling fat kid, I’ve always been hyper-aware of my body when in frequent and sustained motion, like running, because often the sight of my fleshy behemoth core inspired people to shout “Earthquake!” or “Stampede!” or, the most cliche of all, “Run, Forrest, Run!” (For the record, I have had no known impact on the Richter Scale.)
Even when I first began working out, cardio interested me the least, in part because I feared judgment but also because treadmills and other cardio machines made me feel like a really fat hamster working that wheel until it was cheese time.
Over time, I’ve developed a love-hate relationship with cardio, which recently has been more on the love side since I lost 30 lbs. last year just by walking home from work and Wii Fit-ing my ass off in the mornings a few days a week. (Nintendo, again, hit me up about that spokesman gig.) Since my relationship with cardio has been more positive recently, the 5K seems like a good opportunity to test our bond, to see if cardio and I were truly meant to be.
But, first, I’m curious if you’ve ever run one before and, if so, do you have any tips for a fat fuck seriously considering a 5K? Lay it on me. I promise not to slap you in the face.