Can’t We Just Exercise Like Normal People?

How many idiots can you fit on one street?

Dear World,

At the risk of starting a war with all of you “extreme” athletes out there, I am going to go out on a ledge here, even though I know you could all catch me (eventually) and beat me up if I started running from you. But fuck it, you need to hear it. Whatever happened to just “working out”, “going for a run”, or “getting a good sweat”?

It started with marathons. A race run in honor of a man who died running it. Recently 3 seemingly healthy people died running one in Detroit. (Now, I understand it’s Detroit and people probably simply drop dead when they see a letter sent to them and realize that they actually still live IN Detroit, but still.)

Why do we feel the need to run 26.2 miles? Because some other guy did? That guy ran it in mocassins because he had to beat the Persian Navy to Athens or that city would have been destroyed (or so the legend goes). If he could see you running it for fun, he’d punch you in the face.

If you think you’re so cool running 26.2 miles, why hasn’t anyone thought of running a double marathon, huh? Why stop at 26.2? - Hm? What’s that? Oh, people do that too? I see.

Are we that bored with ourselves that the only way for us to find meaning in our lives is to compete in voluntary events that could kill us? That’s sad. No no Mr. Emperor, let ME jump in the Coleseum with the lions. Let the slaves rest. I want to feel the thrill of being extreme!

Now there’s the Iron Man and the Double Iron Man, ad nauseum. When does it end? When does satisfaction set in? Hannibal took elephants over the Alps. Who wants to trek that with me for shits and giggles? When do you realize that you have no life and no friends and all you do is workout? You don’t have to work out 32 hours a day to look/feel good. I workout for an hour, 3-4 days a week and I can crack coconuts with my abs. (The coconuts are perforated of course, and by “abs” i mean, a hammer.)

Because let’s be honest, men workout to get laid. That’s really the only reason. I don’t care what anyone else says. We shave, we groom ourselves, we workout, we are employed, we buy European cars with cool LED headlights, so we can get laid. Period. If women didn’t exist, or if sex hurt, we wouldn’t look much different than the cavemen in the Geico commercials. I’m not even sure if we would have developed spoken language if women didn’t exist. But in order to get laid, you have to stop working out from time to time and grab a goddamn beer and enjoy this immensely blessed life we live in Western society.

So fellas (and ladies too, because if you’re not out drinking apple-tinis in your uncomfortable shoes and short dresses, who are we supposed to pursue?), calm down with the “ultras” and the “supers” and the “extreme” and the “adventure” races. How bout a jog, a pick up bball game, some sit-ups and pull-ups and then call your boys, get drunk and go try to get some ass out on the town? I’m tired of losing wingmen because they have to get up at 4AM for a workout NAVY Seals don’t even do. Because unless you need to survive in ultra, super, or extreme conditions, re-fucking-lax. Because when I asked a friend how the Iron Man went and he said, “At one point, I wanted to die, cry, and shit myself and would have welcomed all three of those, whole heartedly,” I thought, well that doesn’t sound very fun. Why would you do that?

You do all this solo working out because you hate your life and your job and have no idea how to get out of the dead end relationship you’re in, and so you run/bike/swim so much that you see your girlfriend less than if she was working in Cape Town on a co-op, to find some sort of purpose in life.

Well I have some advice. Man up. Quit your job. Lose the girl. Play volleyball. Blackout. Regret drunken decisions. Live. You only have one life. Don’t go wasting it dying while running a foolishly long distance for no reason whatsoever.

Sincerely,

Browtf