For shame

I just got the marathon pictures sent over from a friend who has access to those kinds of things via probably sleeping with the photography company. Wow. I look like a jackass when I run. But I’m going to post them anyway because I think there should be some record of this for future generations. Here are some fun facts:

1-My form sucks. When I’m tired, I start to heel-strike, and apparently that’s really bad.”

2-It seems that my body reacts to running by making sharp nip-nips on “the ladies.” I think this can be attributed to the idea that either a) my body believes I am running because of danger, and activates all systems for “go,” b) my body believes that such pain could only come from the actual birthing of a human child (possibly as old as 24 months, given the pain level) and reacts accordingly, c) it is cold as a mothafuckahhh at the time of day that these races occur, or d) all the rubbing of my jumblies against my shirt/sports bra makes them go “hello? Did you need us for something?
3-When my legs hit the ground they are gross and sinewy, like the cover of those steroid magazines where the girls look like they’ve got live cobras wrapped around their bones, covered in skin, just writhing around waiting to bite any potential passers-by.

4-My fake smile, like at the end of a race when I’m so tired and sweaty and pained, is not convincing. It is, in fact, just a way to add extra inches to the width of my face. Rock on.

9 thoughts on “For shame”

  1. And here I’m told I’m funny for jogging on the balls of my feet. But I do it to prevent my feet from hurting. so HA! silly Runtex people.

    But you look freaking awesome out there!

  2. Your legs don’t look sinewy; they look tough, like Van Damm or something. You could totally boxkick some asshole’s head clean off his shoulders with those things.

  3. Whatever — we know from your finishing time you were definitely going faster than walking. Allow me to quote some dude from Top Chef when I say, “This is Top Chef — not Top Pussy.”

    I think you know what I mean.

  4. Tina, my darling lunatic, you have a delightful smile full of white-ass teeth. Enjoy that. I have to hemorrhage American currency to a man with a smelly beard so that he can attempt to make my teeth look half as good as yours.

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