How To Hate Running In The Right Way
I’ve had no energy recently and I’ve been talking myself into some seriously bad runs. So in keeping with my usual brand of Poundland nihilism I thought I’d send you all some tips on how to ruin runs for yourself.
- Remind yourself that no matter how far you run you’ll still be a cunt – And that despite your best efforts you will die. You are just a broken space creature scrabbling across rocks so that you can eat more pie. Why not just skip the running and get to the pie?
- Every time you run your chances of being eaten alive by a cunt mountain like the one shown below increases little by little – Pucker up your bum and be very afraid. The paws of death await you.
- Ignore your bowels at all costs – Using the toilet beforehand is cheating. Real runners play Russian Roulette and see brown legs as a price worth paying for some fun time Frankie. In a world where we’re hopelessly punding for dopamine in a never-ending Facebook/Snapchat/Twitter death spiral, being caught needing to shit your pants in the great outdoors can make you feel really alive whilst gaining some empathy for the homeless community.
- Start every run with the affirmation “I fucking hate this shit” – AND MEAN IT. You’re bringing sexy back when you scowl like your grandma on the toilet.
- Compare yourself unflatteringly to your peers – Half of Twitter have just ran a marathon quicker than it takes you to do a 5k and you should be very upset at that. Feel the envy. Be the envy. They may be better runners than you but you run with much more soul then them. That’s how you sell it to yourself when you run still drunk on a Sunday morning. You’re more human than them. You have accepted your limitations and all the cake that comes with it. The others out there? Pah. They are but robots. If they had to walk a mile in your shoes they’d probably do it in 5 minutes because they are fucking cunts and better than you.
- Remind yourself that if you’re enjoying running you’re doing it wrong – Time to adopt that joyless Presbyterian work ethic where you have to go hard or go home. Smiling is not allowed. You must always be out of breath. You must hate yourself in this life in order to be worthy of salvation in the next.
- If it’s your first run for a while try reflecting on how much fatter you are now – And how much slower you’ve got. Console yourself with some delicious fudge fatty. It’s never gonna get any better. Except the fudge. They will always find ways to make fudge tastier. New super tasty cows that just sweat out caramel without farmers having to do shit.
- Always set yourself impossible targets – If you think you’re capable of running 3 miles, show a bit of ambition and shoot for 6. That way when you actually make 5 you’ll feel like a massive fucking failure and never wanna run again.
- If you’re the anxious sort fuel up on caffeine before your run – You need to make yourself so tense that it looks like you’re trying to fuck an ironing board inside a straitjacket as you run. Remember if you stop running THEN THAT’S IT OVER. YOU HAVE FAILED FOR GOOD!
- Ignore your fellow runners – Especially if they try to cheer you up with a nod or a wave. Growl at them like they’ve just threatened to exhume your granny and take what’s left of her corpse out disco dancing.
- Afterwards tell everyone how badly your run went – They may well have lost both of their parents to a house fire last night but you’ve just had the shittest run ever and social media wants to know how you did.
And whilst we’re there…
Day 8 of 31
|Calories in||Calories out||Deficit|