- The trail.
I hadn’t intended to run fast.
But now I can…run fast for me that is.
If you think I’m slow, you aren’t running with this body.
My knee pain is spectacular, but I’ve learned that if it ain’t actually broke, don’t fix it.
First Mile: 9:35, not too bad.
Weight: 216. remember, I’m 6’2½”. Not much fat left.
Second Mile: 9:52, 19:27 two mile. That would have me passing the Army APFT for a younger age group. I don’t think they do the run anymore.
Total weight loss: 23%. I still need to lose somewhere between 12-22 pounds to reach normal BMI. Some scales have it around 194, others at 199-204.
Third Mile: 30:40. Not under 30, but OK.
5k Time: 31:40, OK, but my next goal is 29:50.
Fourth Mile: 43:00. Fastest since 2009 when I ran 39:57.
Body-fat: 17%. Not horrible. I want to get down to 12%.
Waist: I’m almost at 36″, goal is 33½.
Tan: good, but fading.
I heard someone coming up behind me fast at the 1.5 mile marker. It was the Punker-Model-Writer-Chick.
“Hi Botendaddy. I heard about your run-in with the Voat ‘Fat People Hate’ girl. She really does hate anyone over 9% body-fat. I tried to talk to her, but she called me a fat-fat-fatty-skinny-fat-skank-slut-McBeetus-Lardvaark-Butter-Golem. So I grabbed her by her ponytail until I kept hitting her really, really hard, then I sat on her face until she submitted. I think I orga5med when I was beating her. She said that being ‘normal’ BMI is not healthy enough. She said that at your height, you have to determine your body type:
- Ectomorph: Low end of normal BMI 155-168
- Endomorph: High end of BMI 172-197
- Mesomorph: Middle range of BMI. 164-178
She said she would put you at mid-way between ecto and meso. meaning, you should weigh 166. That would be like 4% body-fat and a 28 inch waist? J3sus, that’s thin.”
We turned around just before the ancient train tunnel to avoid GPS disaster. I was timing by my watch for the usual stupid MayMyRun ‘pause’ failure-defect-disaster-bad-design…
“You shouldn’t have hit her. It’s not nice. I think that’s still a crime in the Commonwealth. I think she might have some form of Tourette’s or some other defect that prevents her from controlling what she shrieks out at people. The Voat FPH shitlady is right about health, though. I actually agree with her that HAES is not a proven theory. I agree that BMI is a mortality table and is thus valid. I agree with her on the health effects of obesity: I’ve had friends young and old with strokes, high blood pressure, diabetes, heart attacks and the like. Where I don’t agree with her is her desire that obese people have to hate themselves and be the objects of derision. I also don’t agree that people should be punished even if they do lose weight by telling them that they’ve already destroyed their bodies. What’s the message? If gluttony is a moral failure so is cruelty, vanity and judgmental behavior. I’m a 70s guy: ‘Everybody Love Everybody’™
She looked me over as we were running. She was a high school track star, so she was just pacing me for the joy of my company.
“I think your massive, foul-smelling, soaked, malodorous, bowel-movement-filled, delicious adult diaper is slowing you down. Ah the smell of it! Glorious! Maybe you would run faster if you didn’t wear a diaper. But then maybe you would soil your high-end running shorts if you didn’t.”
“I am running well PMWC, but I am taking it easy today. I actually felt I could have run a sub 9:00 mile. But hey, If I have to lose another… 44 pounds to be mid-range BMI? God knows what I would run at 172.”
We were on the downhill crossing one of the old train bridges and my run time was OK. I was also wearing a knee brace. It was 81° with gruesome 70% humidity.
“Listen Botendaddy. God, you stink! I should be smelling the fresh air! The primeval forest! Your diaper is ruining the forest air. Other runners are avoiding you. I just want to tie you down and hit you with a belt until you weep. By the way, my pathetic boyfriend went back to Nanty-Glo for the summer. He’s an idiot anyway. He doesn’t know how to f&ck. It’s sad. He’s a furry. I think he’s having on online relationship with that anime freak Hiroyuki b!tch anyway. So after the run, come over to my apartment. Take off that rancid diaper. I’ll throw your filthy clothes in the washer. Take a shower for god’s sake, then you can make that erotic, perverted, sick nouveau-BDSM-old-man love to me with your massive, gnarled member for hours and hours. I love giving my beautiful *hot* young body to you. It makes me feel so dirty and degraded. You are disgusting. In no way do you deserve this, that’s so *hot*. ”
She stopped talking in her annoying New York Accent just long enough to breathe.
“Botendaddy – do you think I’ll ever be normal?”
“No PMWC. You’re a gritty, deranged, psycho-writer. John O’ Brien, Hunter S. Thompson, Poe. Good writers aren’t normal. They are f*cking insane. The more you devolve into a gritty, dirty, disheveled mess, the better your writing will be. You’re even using a typewriter now, it makes you own your work and it captures the moment when you thought the thought. All this editing is for the birds. It’s the sign of a weak writer. Live with your own sh!t like I do.”
We reached the end of the trail.
“Botendaddy? You talk like a literary critic. Follow me in your car. You stink too much like rancid fermenting $h!t to get into my car.”
Peace be the Botendaddy