The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances

Crunches are an exercise where you lie on your back and angrily try to head-butt your crotch.

Just don't fall into a tanning bed. These machines are for vapid, narcissistic, idiots who have barren vacuums where their thoughts, fears, and passions should be. Spending time in a tanning bed will only earn you the appearance and intellect of an inbred baked potato. Don't be a baked potato. Be a person.

marathon: (noun) A popular form of overpriced torture wherein participants wake up at ass-o-clock in the morning and stand in the freezing cold until it's time to run, at which point they miserably trot for a god-awful interval of time that could be better spent sleeping in and/or consuming large quantities of beer and cupcakes. See also: masochism, awfulness, "a bunch of bullshit", boob-chafing, cupcake deprivation therapy

If you find yourself debating whether or not you should go exercise, it means you have the time and the means, your're simply talking yourself out of doing something difficults

Running a race assigns a point to a sport that often feels very pointless. It's an exuberant payoff to months of tedium. It's a way of crafting an end boss for a particularly cumbersome video game. It's a fun, monstrous reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other. So, do yourself a favor: go build a monster.

They say you should treat your body like a temple. I treat mine like a fast-moving dumpster.

I did not become a runner to lose weight, I did it to escape my computer

Running is a form of practiced stoicism. It means teaching your brain and body to be biochemically comfortable in a state of disrepair.

Runners aren't impervious to pain, we're just better at choosing what kind of pain we have to feel. And when I run, that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm asserting control over the uncontrollable. I'm housebreaking a tornado.

It was on this day, during this terrible and wonderful run, that a thought occurred to me, a thought which has never left me" I've always considered the question to be. "Why am I alive? Why am I here? What’s the point of me?? And to that I say WHO CARES! FORGET THE WHY. YOU ARE IN A RAGING FOREST FULL OF BEAUTY AND AGONY AND MAGICAL GRAPEY BEVERAGES AND LIGHTNING STORMS AND DEMON BEES. THIS IS BETTER THAN THE WHY. I run because I seek that clarity. Maybe it’s superficial. Maybe its’s just adrenaline and endorphins and serotine flooding my brain. But I don’t care. I run very fast because I desperately want to stand very still. I run to seek a void. The world around me is so very, very loud. It begs me to slow down, to sit down, to lie down. And the buzzing of the world is nothing compared to the noise inside my head. I’m an introspective person, and sometimes I think too much, about my job and about my life. I feed an army of pointless, bantering demons. But when I run, the world grows quiet. Demons are forgotten, Krakens are slain, and Blerches are silenced. THE END.

If I am sedentary at a time when I have zero excuse for being sedentary, I call this "blerching.

Many endurance athletes insist on waking up super early to train. I am not one of those athletes. I'm a runner, not a f*cking werewolf.

My feeding habits are like that of a trained circus animal: every time I do a trick, I get a reward.

I grew up a fat kid, and in a way The Blerch is my former self. I run because I'm terrified of becoming that kid again.