Readerinos! (That’s to be read like a Ned Flanders’ “Neighborino” not like “Reader rhinos!” I would never call you rhinos, readers! I love you guys!)

Happy New Years readers! We’re still in the first half of the month (sort of)  so I think I can still say that. In fact, I ‘m pretty sure I can say “Happy New Year” till about May13th. Heck I leave my Christmas lights up till September so why not?

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while readers for a number of reasons:

A) I miss you guys.

B) I’m sticking with my whole “Go-three-months-without-posting-then-post-what-I-think-is-a-highlarious-rant-about-something-just-barely-still-relevant-and-then-sit-back-for-another-three-months-reminiscing-how-good-that-last-post-was” schtick that seems to be working out pretty good. On a completely unrelated and perfectly timely note, what’s the deal with celebrities dying in groups of three? MJ, Farrah Fawcett, and Ed McMachon all passed on close to each other. Leave it to Billy Mays to throw in one more ABSOLUTELY FREE! *Guffaw* *Snort* But seriously folks, RIP Billy.

It was actually reading this post (which is on motivation. SHOCKER) that put me into the writing mood. You see readers, I, like the post’s author, suffer from a big ‘ol lack of motivation when it comes to working out. I’d like to get back to my svelte physique but I am just butting heads with my lack of goaling and short attention span.  Seriously we’re talking the focus of a goldfish here. I get distracted by the slightest th-SQUIRREL! Where was I?

I have a few ideas why I’m struggling with this bad boy. The first is the method of the aforementioned “working out.” Previously, the thing that I’ve had the most success with is running. But here’s the rub readers. I HATE RUNNING! Hate, hate, hate. This is a type of loathing that I save for only a select few: running,  Adam Lambert, and veggieburgers. (You’re not fooling anyone, veggieburger! You’re not a burger! We’re all onto you!)

Now a number of my friends, whose blogs I stalk read, love running. They run just for fun. They run in races and win awards and keep running journals and are amazing. I’d also like to submit that they are categorically insane and each suffer brain damage from the lack of oxygen that they sustain while running. (I kid.) I just never understood the appeal. I mean have you ever watched anyone run for a sustained amount of time? Does it look like they’re enjoying it? No, it looks like they are either utterly pissed to be there like it’s some form of punishment, or they are about a furlong from passing out and faceplanting the ground. Now I know, readers, you’ll harrumph and say, “Not true! I love running! Nothing pleases me more than puking my guts out after a nice long 26 miler!”  And you’re probably right. But go with me on this one.

(As a tangent of things I dislike, many people who are proponents of running tell me that they once were in my fat schlubby shoes. That all they did one day was they got off the couch and went running and was consistent and suddenly there they are sprinting like a gazelle through the deserts of the Serengeti. And then they drop this motivational cherry on top. “It just grows on you!”

Oh come on.

Running doesn’t “grow” on you. You know what grows on you? Foot fungus. And mold. And a whole host of other smelly things that are disgusting. Why would you say something “grows on you?”  But I digress.)

So I think I’ve made it pretty clear that me and running don’t get along very well. But it’s with running that I have the most success so now I have eloquently stumbled back to my original point of how do I conquer this bad boy so I don’t end like those celebrities’ torsos that show up on STAR magazine. You know the ones with the grainy picture that could be literally anyone on the planet or a potted plant for that matter that have the witty headline “OMG! Which ‘Friday Night Lights’ star should be spending more time in the dark?!?!”

Here’s what I’m considering. Numero uno is public shame. I come out to you, my faithful readers, and plead that I’m a changed man and that running and I have made up and keep you all updated with my progress. You get weekly reports filled with waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too much information and motivational quotes attached to pictures of kittens. You know like this one.

Now I gotta be honest with you readers. I don’t think this one’s going to work for a couple of reasons. One is there’s no chance in Hades that I”m going to update it every week. I’m much too lazy. Reason number two, (and I think the more important reason) is public shame is a tricky thing.

Let’s go hypothetical for a minute, readers. Lets say that you are a celebrity. No a sports star. You play, oh I don’t know, professional basketball. You make a wad of cash for shooting some hoops and have a pretty great lifestyle. Now let’s say that it turns out that you are accused of, hmmm I’m just spitballing here, brandishing a gun at your teammate in the locker. There’s a big uproar and you decide you’d better nip this in the bud. So you come out with a carefully crafted statement expressing your shame publicly and how you’re willing to work through this misunderstanding with the local law officials and hope you can put it behind you blah blah blah. Now let’s say with this terrible cloud hanging over your head, in your pregame huddle in a crowded arena, in front of your teammates, before you go and do that which you are paid to do, you have the genius idea of doing this:

Whoopsie

Kinda negates that whole “remorse and public shame” thing you had going don’t it?

And that’s what I’m afraid of, readers! I don’t want to be Gilbert Arenas! I don’t want to come out with all this hooplah about running and thighmasters and such and the very next post, there’s a picture of me downing 7 deep-fried Twinkies or something (mmmmmm Twinkies)

So I’m right back where I started only a little more out of breath. (Typing is tough!) I have a feeling I’m just going to have to suck it up and go running. Maybe I can distract myself somehow so I don’t know I’m running.  Or pay somebody to run for me.

Yeah I’ll go with that instead.