As someone who likes the idea of running but hates it in practice, I have had my fair share of unfavorable experiences. It all started when I got into the habit of running to Whole Foods. Since it was on the other side of town, I would have to drag myself down the entire Los Gatos Boulevard in order to reach my destination. Running on the boulevard is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so effective. The fear of someone you know potentially driving by and seeing you running is real, so you end up forcing yourself to wheeze along and appear to be in shape. You think you look strong, athletic, confident, and fit. But in reality, you’re beet red and sweating like a hog.
Today, I was wearing my sub 8 minute mile P.E. shirt from middle school to intimidate anyone I came in contact with. When I was feeling pretty good, I tripped on the sidewalk and stumbled forward a few feet, barely catching myself before face planting. One of my earbuds had fallen out during the traumatic event, and I hunched over like a shrimp as I looked for my beloved 50-bucks-a-piece airpod.
Once I made it to Whole Foods, I treated myself to a cookie to cancel out all the calories I just burned. Then, I called my parents and begged them to pick me up from Whole Foods, because I was too out of shape and filled with cookies to run back home.
Today, however, no one could pick me up. Before knowing this, I, unfortunately, had bought a pack of muffins from Whole Foods, and I had no choice but to run while holding a 12 pack of chocolate chip muffins in my right hand. I was the muffin man. In a sudden burst of motivation, as I ran past the high school, I decided to throw in some bleacher reps. As I jogged up the steps of the bleachers, I immediately noticed and then disregarded the “DO NOT RUN ON THE BLEACHERS” sign. After I set down my muffins and lunged up the stairs, my foot slipped out from under me and my knee hit steel with a force so great that the entire stadium echoed. I rolled over and laid there for a minute, gasping in shock. I squinted into the sun, blinded, thinking, “This is it. I died of embarrassment.” I lifted my head up and saw that everyone practicing on the field had turned their head towards me. Now, I had no choice but to continue with my bleacher runs. After all, the only thing more embarrassing after falling would be fleeing. After a few reps, I grabbed my muffins and limped off the bleachers.
When I woke up in the morning, my knee was the color of a grape. I then decided that the treadmill would suffice for future runs.