I’m done. I don’t want to do this any more, so I’m not going to. All this running, and biking, and lifting, and eating right is just tiring. My reward has been blisters, and spasms, and aching joints, and a bruised ego at every race.
Eating three Easter dinners yesterday reminded me how much I like eating ten thousand calories in a day. Multiple helpings of four kinds of pork is, well, just being a good American. And having a nap afterwards is just the right thing to do.
So I think I’m just gonna do what everybody else does. I’m gonna relax, eat whatever I want, watch TV and play video games. If something hurts, I’m not gonna do it. Sweating is so undignified, anyway. Who wants to be seen like that? All red-faced, sweat pouring off of you, clothes soaked and stained in embarrassing places… It’s just gross.
So the rest of the year is gonna look a lot like this. Feet up, drink in hand, watching something delightfully mindless. I think I’ll finally try to get good at Call of Duty or something. Maybe I’ll take up Pilates. Or Zumba. I know one thing, I’ll have a lot more cash laying around once I start living off of WalMart brand chicken nuggets and tater tots again. Which is good, because I’ll need it for cigarettes and lottery tickets.
Probably just gonna sell all the bikes and put the money towards one of those massage chairs they sell at the mall. And hey, with my knee acting up, I bet I could qualify for a free Hoveround! Could somebody hand me my phone? I can’t reach it, and I don’t wanna get up.