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That Time You Decided to Actually Go for a Run with Your Athletic Friend

That Time You Decided to Actually Go for a Run with Your Athletic Friend

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(via Huffington Post) 1:00pm: We head out the door. This gon be good. New month, new (athletic) me.

1:02pm: Fuck I have to pee. How long do I have to run before I can justify consuming an inordinate amount of calories through alcohol tonight?

1:05pm: Is it bad that I already have a stitch?

1:08pm: Dear God, make Paige slow down. Please. There is a very high possibility that I will straight collapse any second at this ridiculous pace, but admitting that I need to slow down is a sign of weakness and I am not weak.

1:09pm: “My Heart Will Go On” just came up on shuffle...can’t coordinate running and changing the song so forced to listen to the whole thing.

1:10pm: Laughing a little at the situation with “My Heart Will Go On” but also crying because laughing hurts too much. Also why do I know all the words to this song?

1:12pm: Ask her. Ask her right now. Ask her right now how much longer this goes on.

1:13pm: What the fuck? She wants to run for at least 30 minutes more! This is fucking nuts! What the fuck did I sign up for? Why am I so out of shape? Why is Paige so ok with the speed we’re maintaining? Why did I eat Chipotle for lunch?

1:14pm: I haven’t felt such a powerful need to vomit since…this morning when I woke up (lol I go hard college am I right).

1:15pm: Ok right that’s it. No dignity left, I’m turning around, Paige can run to fucking Chicago for all I care, but I’m done with this shit.

1:16pm: I’ll run back though, that’ll be athletic and good for me. Goddamnit I will run all the way back because I am the man.

1:17pm: Ok asshole, this isn’t a race. You don’t have to sprint the fuck in front of me to prove a point. What’s the point of passing someone if you’re just going to slow down and run at the same pace as I am, but slightly in front of me? Ok maybe you’re running a little faster me. Ok you’re basically turning into an ant now. Yeah ok maybe you were right to pass me.

1:18pm: Phone FUCKING died at 18% can’t run anymore what am I supposed to do, listen to the sound of myself heave? I could barely manage this with Beyoncé blasting in my ears! No, peace out, I am done.

1:20pm: 18 minutes of running merits some Andy’s right?

1:22pm: Caught a shuttle up north, sitting on shuttle with my concrete in hand. Pondering popping into Sarge before it closes to get some cereal. Am I embarrassed about the way things ended? A little. Am I surprised? Not at all.

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