The Art of Non-Running
I had loads of fun cheering on my friend, Tom, as he completed the (frigging) Ironman a few months ago!! Little did anyone know I was cheering for myself too. Amidst all of the unthinkable feats of strength and endurance, the fist bumps, the "way to go!"s, I heard a little voice inside say, "But look what YOU'VE done!"
And rather than keep it quiet, I thought I'd share it with you, NOW.
I've completed my own sort of Ironman... one that involves an IMPOSSIBLE amount of non-running.
You know how you don't have time to do, like, anything for yourself? So much so that you've been hiding out in the bathroom for some alone time? And you know how during that most-coveted alone time, you're supposed to get up the energy/get on the spandex to move your weary rear? Lemme tell you about something I've been perfecting for the last 4 years now: I call it Non-Running.
Now, you've probably heard of it. Most people in the world understand and practice it pretty regularly. I promise, once you get onto it, you'll never go back to your old running ways.
You'll certainly be tempted to run once in a while. Friends will ask you to sign up for a race or something at Outdoor Voices will seduce you to with its color and body-slimming capabilities.
Follow these steps to ensure you don't succumb to temptation.
1. Encourage your kids to crawl in with you at night so that you get zero sleep and feel drowsy all day.
2. Order a Bloody Mary at weekend brunch. It's a pro non-runner move.
4. Pour yourself a 4 o'clock glass of wine, break out the goat gouda, and, shoot! no crackers? Put it on a tortilla chip if you have to!
5. Buy the world's largest phone, the iPhone 6 Plus. It's like running with an iPad. You won't want to be seen hauling that thing down the sidewalk.
6. Answer multiple post-bedtime requests for milk, more stories, and butt wipes.
7. Do, like, anything else. There are literally infinity things you can do besides run.
I know, it'll be difficult. You'll be thinking, "What's the POINT of all this?"
And then one day, it'll just happen. You'll be an expert, a connoisseur, if you will, of non-running. All that effort and emotional roller-coastering will make it IMPOSSIBLE to run. Like, ever.
And that's when I'll say "Welcome, friend!" and "Put your feet up" and "You're in good company" and "Way to do EVERYTHING (except run)!"
Oh, yes indeed! You've done the unthinkable. Every day. You deserve to be celebrated.