Streaks

I couldn’t run Friday. The streak is over. Let’s blame Jimmy.

Wednesday, Jimmy and I did a workout that included, in addition to a ton of other sweaty ridiculosity, TWO HUNDRED TWENTY FIVE (225) jumping lunges. Thursday, I’m a little limpy. But then Friday, I had this thing Jimmy called delayed something muscular onset or something and it felt like someone took a butcher knife and cut off my ass. Not hyperbole. I checked my ass in the mirror to see if my skeleton was sticking out. You think I’m lying but I’m not. Have someone shoot you in the ass with a bow and arrow. There. Now your ass feels like my ass.

So after 525 days* of running, I took the day off. Besides, I'm training for a 50K run in August and Jimmy thinks the daily running is detrimental. Apparently, he has other muscle groups to destroy in preparation for the 31 mile trek.

*Give or take. There’s a couple weeks in there where I completely blacked out and you’d have to ask Jeremy or Vanessa if I ran or not. One time I came to in their hot tub wearing running clothes.

*

I read this story about a guy taking painkillers after a surgery. He had one drink and died. Last fall (Fall! Get it? Look alive look alive), I tossed 3 percocets in a vodka and Red Bull like they were ice cubes. I woke up in the backseat of a car in the parking garage of Circus Circus.

I’ve been alive 14,380 days and I’m a gaggle of cats wearing bulletproof vests.

*

I know a lot of dead people. My roommate, Billy—he was eaten by a shark. However, some of our friends think he faked his own death to evade gambling debt. Crazy story either way. I had another roommate, Chad, who struggled like crazy to come to terms with shooting and killing a rival gang member, though he later told us the whole story was a lie. He shot himself in the head a couple years ago. According to some AA analysts, Chad was not entirely ready to have God remove all his defects of character.

I’ve had some good runs in AA. I was sober from age 19-27 and 30-38. When you hang around AA that long, you’re bound to live a life haunted by ghosts. You get a lot of calls that start with “Did you hear about…?” Hung himself. OD’d. Just… disappeared.

After limping through 10K this morning, I looked at myself in the mirror, naked, healthier than I’ve ever been in my life. Thought about where I’d been. Smiled at my 40s knocking at the door and the sense that good things are on their way. I’m gonna live, live it to death. What’cha got, 14,381?

Days run in a row: 1

Days sober: 35

Comments

i thought this was going to be about getting naked and running around to disrupt public events.
It had running though, and it mentioned ass and a hot tub so I guess that kinda counts.

Congrats on 35 days/1 day. Hope your ass feels better soon.

Hot damn.

Here's to more good runs.

I'm so proud of you. I don't even know you, but I am so fucking proud of you.

i remembered that your birthday is just a few days after mine. now i know that i am, what? 14,385 days old?

thanks for counting. :)

I often forget that I like optimist BHJ. And then you publish a post that makes me listen to Incubus' Make Yourself on too-much-repeat.

I’ve been alive 14,380 days and I’m a gaggle of cats wearing bulletproof vests

best line I have read on the internet today. thank you for the post and for the video - I am alive.

You're a motherfucking hero.

Ah. Running is the drug, now. I'd get your ass back in the hot tub if I were you. Owwww. Arnica?

Hope your ass feels better. Awesome post.

Congrats on the 35 days. Your ass story is too funny.
I know a lot of past tense people from AA (and NA) too. I don't think I know you.
Love the writing.

That 30k is a gateway drug to ultra marathoning, you realize that, I trust? But I promise you that should you find yourself training for a 50-mile, or a 12-hour race, you will be among some of the weirdest motherfuckers you will ever meet, goos times. My dad was an ultra marathoner and a weirdo and I went to many, many, many races.

This is, as always, some really fine reading. Thanks for that.

That damned Jimmy and the pain he inflicts.

I noticed you have no b-day on either FB page. I guess we're all on a "need to know" basis regarding the 40th, huh?

the day you can't feel the arrow in your ass is the day to start worrying.

A living streak - love it!

"a gaggle of cats wearing bulletproof vests"....is the best thing I have read all morning.

Sometimes I wonder why it is so important for us to keep count of things...I have no idea. Somehow, it feels necessary though.

Unrelated: I have been running more...it's not sucking less (yet)...but it's not killing me quite as much either. I guess that's something.

Your streak is over? Pussy. What's a little pain, when cleansing the soul is on the line?

Get off you ass. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. Go run. Run until you can run no more.

*I was dead. Now I'm alive. And I'm still an asshole.

Jasper Mocked.

Please come to Germany. I will marry you. Don´t worry, I´m not German, I just live here and I am certain that you and I are soul mates. Some day I will tell you my story. Sometimes (sometimes) you make it just right and I can find the handle and be o.k. thank you. never stop this.

Thank you so much for writing. Your story is important to me, and to others, so that's one thing; the other thing is that your writing, no matter the topic, is kickass. It makes me want to purr like a cat in a patch of sun.

You still ran. You'd come in the door all coughy & panting & tell me Don't Ever Smoke, but you still ran. Everyday. & you ate a hamburger once.