10 Reasons Why Running Is Dangerous Bad For My Mental & Physical Health As A Beginner
Today is the first day of my new weekly series called “Fuck it all Friday”. Since this concept is new and poorly thought out, expect it to be shit for a while.
If you’ve got an embarrassing, scary or funny running story, then please submit it here and I’ll include it in next Friday’s post if it’s funny/horrifying enough.
Why running is bad for my health
- I’ve gained weight from marathon training yet again – Despite my best efforts in the run up to the Belfast Marathon, I’m back up to 210lbs again and I’m not happy with it. I seem to spend the months after a marathon trying to recover my weight to somewhere a bit more respectable. It’s disappointing that I train for marathons with weight control in mind and this happens.
- I’m tired of bits of my fucking body falling off – I feel like I’ve got leprosy what with my toenails turning black and breaking off. I’m just waiting on the clincher and my nipples or dick declaring independence.
- I still get annoyed if I don’t achieve personal bests – I try to put a brave face on and wax philosophical about dissapointing performances but the truth is that it hurts when I fall short with my plans.
- I rely too much on being a runner for my self esteem – I wear my running shoes everywhere and I define myself as a runner above anything else really. If I stop running then who am I? Just another angry, muttering bore.
- My appetite is a bastard – After running the 10.5 miles on Thursday morning I wanted to eat all of the things near me. For breakfast I had a footlong Veggie Delight sub, a packet of Cheestrings and 2 tubes of Smarties. Then for lunch I had a salad and a large portion of chips and this still wasn’t enough. I wouldn’t mind it so much but I’m already overweight and being bigger makes running more difficult.
- My financial situation is shitty because of my running – I’ve spent so much on race entry, flights, hotels and sportswear recently that I’m in danger of a downgrade from Moody’s. I can’t seem to stop entering races. I mean I love doing it and before I became a runner I’d have wasted all my spare cash in the bar so I guess this is an improvement?
- I can’t enjoy summer holidays anymore – In Crete, my mind was berating me for not running in the mornings when it was cooler. I can’t switch that inner critic off. The problem is that running makes me so hyper that if I don’t run for a week or two I become an agitated fucking mess.
- Realising that running doesn’t cure the blues – Running isn’t a cure for depression. You still have to deal with the underlying problems on whatever level you can. Running might help you move towards helping in that area, but you’ve still gotta face it shit.
- My social life has been reduced in half – Before I’d go out to the bar, get wasted and then die of a hangover all Sunday. Now I don’t do that as I want to be able to run on a Sunday. I usually stay inside instead. I’m not someone who can go to a bar and have 2 pints of beer. It’s either 0 or 10. I think I drink that much to cover up the fact that I really fucking hate bars and there isn’t really anywhere else to socialise around here. The cinema? Bah!
- I keep waiting for the post marathon glow but it never comes – After every major race I’ve been left disillusioned and let down that the experience somehow didn’t match up to what I thought it would be. This is probably my fault for having high expectations, but it isn’t helped by the health freaks who big up how amazing you should feel post-race.