Tuesday, March 23, 2010

A Little Jiggle and A Smile

I love the comradery of joggers. Now I'm talking a specific kind of jogger. I myself do not have one defined muscle on my body. I am more of the "softer" sort, if you will. So, if you move like a goddamn butterfly, please jog on the opposite side of the street.
No, the type of comradery I am talking about is between those joggers who you can tell are not, really, joggers. The ones who jog because their doctor lowered his glasses and made a gesture something like this



when the patient reported his exercise routine. Or lack there of one. Or the joggers that do it for cholesterol reasons. Maybe the joggers who are the brains behind some big operation and there is a Gala coming up in their honor and, shit, suddenly they have to be a body behind the operation as well, in a sultry evening gown and well, satin just don't look too good on a belly.

I would know. I am the above sort of jogger. And this is the sort of jogger I am talking about. Things jiggle when I run. Parts of my body actually protest. The soft, sort of chicken-fat like area under my arms and on my calfs swing back and forth, trying to escape the rest of this body that has clearly committed itself to some project, "jogging" that well, these soft parts just want nothing to do with. I can actually see my underarms jiggling in my peripheral vision. That's how much they want out of this deal!

I am talking about the joggers that have a particular look on their face. Nose all snarled up like they've just walked into a porta-potty at a carnival.


Eyes bulging out of their head like they're witnessing a carcrash.


And thoughts that go a little something like this. "This sucks, this sucks, this sucks, F**K, this sucks! Who knew my body could be in so much pain? And still be moving? Oh! What was that? A new pain? I didn't even know i COULD have pain there!"


These are the types of joggers that I love to see. We've got that scary look on our face that i described, but when we pass each other, just for a moment, we smile. A pitiful, difficult, sympathetic, raise of the eyebrow (like hey, somebody made you endure this torture too huh?) smile. But that we can smile, through all that misery, what Comradery!

1 comment:

  1. Made me laugh! You've mentioned exercise before and I had this view of you as a fitness freak - a person jogging when they're not joshing. Why not try walking instead of jogging? Less painful, just as beneficial.

    I did a few sessions of power plate once...totally destroyed me. Never again. I think exercise should be enjoyed. So enjoy yours. And if its any consolation, remember this...you only think jogging is painful cause you haven't tried childbirth yet.

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