The Diary Of A Runner Getting Fat Over The Christmas Period
24th December – Get into festive mood. Watch Elf. Eat all the mince pies. Be merry, Have a drink. One drink becomes 10. Fuck it! Who cares. It’s Christmas. Let’s watch more Christmas movies to try to instil a Christmassy feeling because right now I’m feeling hollow as fuck and if I feed my face enough then I might actually feel something other than blind apathy. Merry Christmas motherfuckers!
25th December – It’s finally here and I can’t understand how people can bring themselves to jog today. There is nothing the in Bible about running on Christmas day. If Jesus did not run on his birthday then I’m not going to either. I don’t think he ate and drank like he had a death wish either. But he did have a death wish, so I guess this counts kinda. Still hungover from last night. I will have a drink to feel better. It’s Christmas after all. I will also eat all of the fucking food and become boisterous with family over board games. Will think about running tomorrow but I’m too busy pretending to be festive so that I don’t out myself as a curmudgeon.
26th December – Oh fuck I got too drunk again and Christmas is over. Everything is fucking depressing from now until New Year. Wilderness. I will run whenever this 2 or 3 day hangover starts to subside. For now I’m going to sleep for 16 hours a day, hide under my duvet and wake up not knowing what fucking day it is. Then it will be time for pizza.
27th December – I could run but I’m pretty certain those tits I have weren’t there yesterday. If they were, at least they weren’t as big. Don’t fancy trailing them around with me on a 5 mile run. Still hungover. Gonna sit in a dark room and feel sorry for myself. Fried food might help but those tits are only gonna get bigger. Fuck it! It’s the season of goodwill. I’ve been good all year. Time to reward myself! Yay!
28th December – Everyone is talking about running on Twitter and they are making New Year resolutions and I wish they’d shut the fuck up. Inside I admire their determination and I’m upset about how much of a slob I am. To take my mind off it I will go out tonight for some drinks. It’s still technically Christmas. YOLO LOL.
29th December – Fucking hungover again. 8.2 on the Richter scale. A blackout. Better check my Facebook and Twitter accounts to see what type of fun I was having last night. There’s a half eaten takeaway meal on the floor and I have 12 unread SMS messages. Cringing creeper hangover memories. Why can I taste blood in my mouth? Who the fuck vomited in my shoes? Why does my shit smell like cat food?!?!?! I’m never drinking again.
30th December – I could run to punish myself for my lack of discipline but it’s so close to the New Year that there’s little point in doing it. Instead I’m gonna masturbate mentally and dream up my New Year’s body. New Year, New You. Anything is possible! I’m going to have a six pack by this time next year. So exciting. Yay! Can’t be bothered going outside and actually doing anything about it but it’s definitely going to happen!
31st December – Continue to dream up my new body. It’s time to be optimistic about the future and to rejoice over the possibilities. I’m gonna celebrate by having one last day of eating and drinking like a fucking idiot before I become a puritan for January. It’s time to celebrate my new start (by making all of my old mistakes again). YOLO LOL!
1st January – Hangover so bad that I want to die. I will not be running today and quite possibly tomorrow. Very few restaurants open today which is a blessing as it means I won’t be able to eat much junk food. Thinking of eating the cat outside instead. Been feeding it scraps all over the Christmas period for this reason. Could possibly catch it if I put some IAMS on the end of a fishing rod and then haul the fucker in. Watch tv documentaries about the world’s fattest people for entertainment and to convince myself I’m not really that bad.
HOW DO THESE PEOPLE LET THEMSELVES GET LIKE THAT!?? IT’S SO SAD BUT FUNNY AT THE SAME! LOOK AT HIM TRYING TO TURN OVER IN BED! IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S PLAYING TWISTER WITH AN ELEPHANT!
2nd January – Now I’m sure that I’m physically incapable of running. Sweating whilst thinking about moving. None of my running clothes fit. Out of breath walking up the stairs. Piss smells like Jiffy Pop popcorn. Everyone tells me that gaining weight over the holiday season is natural but I’m pretty certain this is far from fucking normal. Mentally I think I look like this.