My Secret Running Motivation – An All Consuming Hatred Of Jeremy Clarkson & Top Gear.
I watch the UK television station Dave a lot. I wake up every morning to Top Gear and it fills me with so much hatred that I have to stop myself from punching the television.
You see I hate the presenter Jeremy Clarkson. I think he is an inbred, pig-headed twat. He is what I would loosely term as a brotherfucker.
His world view is that incestuous, that he’d have everyone else cast out of the country just so that he could make violent sweaty man-love with his brother.
In Britain today we have the the ‘Jeremy Clarkson For Prime Minister’ crowd who think that the country would be much better with him charge.
I hope that one day they get their wish.
First of all he’d dismantle the National Health Service, close the borders, open up inbreeding centres where families can mate openly without scorn and finally, wank all of the defense budget into the ‘Campaign For Real Ale’. He’d flush out all of the immigrants and end all speed limits on the roads.
London at rush hour would turn into Mumbai. Scores of people would die on the phone to ambulance services that no longer exist.
So when I’m out running I dream that on every step I’m stomping on his politically incorrect face. It fires me up. Every step is that much easier.
Blind hatred, if channeled effectively can be used to help with your running. I feel like I’ve got a vast reservoir of hatred to draw from that helps when the going gets tough. If I focus solely on the fire within, the miles just float by.
Besides, it’s good channeling this energy into a positive outlet such as jogging.
If I wasn’t running I’d be defecating into a box and writing Clarkson a sonnet in my own shit.