“You are an idiot.” A voice said, as I was running the first mile. It was the Librarian.
I was too focused on trying to get under 9 minutes for the first mile to listen to her mindless drivel.
“I miss Germany.” I said, as I looked straight ahead. It was supposed to be 65, but it was 55, wet and windy on the trail.
“What the hell are you talking about?” She asked.
“8:53 for the first mile. Barely broke 9:00. I spent some time in Germany with the Army. I liked it there. Europe. It was cool just to be there. Skiing at Garmisch-Partenkirche, eating Wurst and Berchtesgaden, going to the Erozentrum in Regensburg.”
oI trudged on through the little train tunnel. It screwed up the GPS signal to the app so we weren’t sure if the mileage was accurate, but it was close enough.
“You shitty whore-hopper! You pig! 18:48 for two miles, I think. I was in Germany too, at Ramstein and Nuremberg.” She said.
Three miles under 30 not had not great.
“I’m BMI normal, but I just don’t get why I can’t run better. Maybe the truth is, to be a good runner you need to be genuinely thin. No visible body fat even when naked. If you show any body fat you just aren’t built like a runner. Inescapable fact. Maybe I need to be under 10% bodyfat? 19 BMI? The hidden danger is the visceral, subcutaneous, sub-muscular fat.”
Our four mile time was under 42:00, neither good nor bad. By the time we hit 10k distance our numbers were under 70:00, but nowhere close to the 59-60 minutes I’d been running in my last two 10k’s.
“Visceral Fat is the killer. That’s why you aren’t healthy unless you are ripped, Yon Botendaddy. Inescapable fact. You look pretty damned near ripped though.”
I realized that I could barely run 7 miles. A half marathon was out of the question.
“Oh well, I just need to keep running. I’m off pace for my most mileage ever. Getting sick last week was a disaster.”
“Botendaddy? It’s been a while. Let’s go back to my van so you can f@&k me truly well. You owe me. A woman has needs. Sure there are real men out there. Good looking men. Handsome men. Well-dressed men. Smart men. Bold men, Brave men. Successful men. But I will have to settle for you. The thought of you sickens me. I can’t say ‘ugly’ enough times in a row to truly express how depressingly unattractive you are. When I wake up before you do, I want to chew my arm off like a coyote in a bear trap. You obnoxious, ugly, stupid, inappropriate, freakish shit-covered beast. You really think you are man enough for this perfect body, fat boy?”
She exposed her unbelievably firm, perfect breasts right in the middle of the trail-head parking lot.
“A woman loved me once, you know. She would beat the shit out of you if she were here right now.”
“Oh, a woman loved me once… blah, blah, blah… DON’T I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE LOVED TOO? YOU SHITTY FRANKENBEAST QUASIMODO ELEPHANT MAN! NOW F&%K ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!”
Peace be the Botendaddy