Every morning, by 6:15am I go jogging for about forty minutes. It’s practically a ritual…
Years ago, it started off as an excuse to spy on my ex-boyfriend. Jogging past his house in the mornings, I was able to see what new ho’ he had spent the night with. Before you judge me, you have to bear in mind that this was in the age prior to Facebook and Twitter. We didn’t have it as good as the girls of nowadays. In today’s world, when your boyfriend tells you “Baby, I’ll call you back later. I’m in a crucial meeting right now”, all a girl has to do is check his twitter profile… if at that moment he’s sending out tweets like “Straight Jack Daniels and fly cuties all up in this motha!!” then she can raise hell.
Anyway, there was no twitter so I had to rely on the primitive method of “jogging” past his house.
After some time though, I noticed that the fake- jogging was actually helping me lose a bit of weight. So I started real-jogging. I changed my route so that I didn’t have to jog past his house or even near his street and before long, the exercise became like therapy for me. I even came close to my ideal weight.
Now, my jogging every day is no longer about weight loss. I have phases when I eat like a pregnant panda so I have to jog to keep the weight from piling on. I also do it to keep fit.
That’s not why we’re here today though…
I consider myself to be an above average runner. But it wasn’t something that happened overnight. I had years of practice (including times I had to run from the police 🙂 ). Anyway, I recently moved to a new town and I’m still kinda new to the area. You can’t imagine what it’s like when, once in a while, a fellow jogger comes out and sees me for the first time. He sees a
girl woman female jogger and just assumes that because I am fat on the fleshy side, I am struggling to lose some weight.
He comes up beside me and enters “personal trainer” mode, asking stupid questions like how long I’ve been running and how often I come out. Then he proceeds to give me, a whole ME *slapping my chest for effect*advice on how best to run, along with some other unwanted weight-loss tips. This irritates the hell out of me. And there are all sorts of these wannabe “personal trainer” type; from the exercise buffs with rippling muscles and rock-hard abs to the ones who need another pair of sneakers for their pot-belly, so that it can jog along beside them. They all have advice to give…
But I don’t need your advice! If I want tips on running, I’ll go to Usain’s website or I’ll follow Blake on twitter. I’m not “nice” so we’re not going to strike up a conversation and “hit it off” from there. In fact, if you keep pestering me, I will be tempted to push you and your stomach onto on-coming traffic. Just leave me alone and let me run in peace… same thing goes to all the wanna-be swimming instructors out there. I’ve been swimming since my dad climaxed in ’82. I don’t need you to teach me now!
The only good thing about it is that they can very easily be dismissed. I either give them my evil early-onset-menopause stare till they wither and fall or I just ignore them till they get the message.
I know what some of you are thinking… and the answer is No, I don’t wonder why I’m still single.
I’m just a girl who wants to run in peace :-(. Is that too much to ask?