10. Drivers who flag me down to ask for
directions: Yes, please stop me
mid-stride to tell you where the mall is!
But just because helped you get to the Olive Garden doesn’t mean I like
you. I did it because I hate you.
9. Sanctimonious douchebags who run in place
at a stoplight: Don’t tell me you
want to keep your heart rate up. You
won’t be rendered catatonic if you just stand still till the light turns
green. And even if you’re technically
doing the right thing, I want to enjoy my sanctioned thirty seconds of rest
without feeling guilty that I’m not exhibiting the complete dedication to craft
that you are. So please stop.
8. Five-toed shoes: I’ve worn some stupid shit in my day,
including pants made out of stolen hotel towels and fishnet tights fashioned
into a shirt (just cut out the gusset, pull over head, and voila!). But I never was dumb enough to defend those
choices as form following function, especially when no believes me anyway.
7. Tech shirts: Polyester does not breathe, people! I don’t care if you punch a million tiny
holes in it. I am a hot person, and I
don’t mean I’m-Too-Sexy-For-My-Tech-Shirt hot.
When I exercise, I’m a disgusting, sweaty mess and tech shirts only make
my overheating and profuse perspiration problems worse.
6. Off-leash dogs: Leash your damn
dogs. I don’t care if it’s a pit bull or
a Chihuahua. I don’t want to trip on
your little dog and I certainly don’t want to be bitten by your big one. And just because we’re by a creek with no feds
around to enforce the “Keep Dogs on Leash” signs doesn’t mean that you get a
free pass from my dirty look.
5. On-leash dogs: Yes, I’m going there. You’ve got a leash. Use it.
Don’t let your dog try to play with me, chase me, or race me. Don’t let your dog piss on one side of the
sidewalk while you hold the end of his leash on the other side, in effect creating
a lovely little trip-line right in my path.
And just because you have a twenty-foot leash doesn’t mean you have to
utilize all twenty feet. I have about
thirty pairs of shoes in my closet but I only wear, like, two – including my
running shoes. Four feet of those twenty
should suit you and your dog just fine.
4. How long it takes for my running watch to
find the damn satellite: When I turn
it on, there’s a graphic that shows it’s searching for GPS. Inevitably, right when it seems like it's about
to connect to the tower, the graphic jumps back a third of the way as if to say
"Psych! Made you look." This sometimes happens two or three times
before it finally starts to work and can take upwards of fifteen minutes. It’s maddening, especially when it’s cold and
you just want to start running already.
Maybe I should run in place like those sanctimonious douchebags at the
stoplight.
3. Old men who give unsolicited advice: I hate this in running and I hate this in
life. And it’s always men, and they’re
always old, and it’s always annoying.
2. Other runners who pass me: I hate them.
I hate them!
1. Drivers who make a right turn without
looking to their right: If you’re
turning right, don’t just look left to make sure there are no oncoming cars. There could be pedestrian traffic on the
sidewalk like bikers, skateboarders, and yes, runners, coming from the other
direction so please, look over. And it's
good practice for if ever you go to Britain or Hong Kong. At the risk of being an old woman giving
unsolicited advice, look both ways before you turn any direction so you don't
inadvertently kill someone, especially me.
If you kill me, I will hate you.
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