Douchebags

Where art thou douchebags? Oh wait, I know.... everywhere that I try to find enjoyment!!! To quote an amazing Asian that I know, everytime I try to take on some personal enjoyment that may involve other people that I don't know, it is ruined by douchebags. For instance.......

Recently I decided that I needed to lose about 15-20 pounds, mainly for narcissistic reasons but also to get me back into shape. The problem is that I have really no motivation to do it alone, so I signed up for a triathlon clinic. Having been a triathlete at one point at my life, accomplishing some finishes that are slightly worth bragging about, however I digress. I am a fat ass now, I surf and drink beer, I need to get back into shape...... triathlon clinic Hoooooooooo.

Day one: I am in pain after biking for an hour and realizing that this is for people who never made it off training wheels. Next is the 'run', which I am dreading. I am in horrible running shape, actually, fat people are in better running shape because they probably sprint into KFC before they close. The 'run' was horrible and my legs hurt along with my knees, ankles, and cornhole. It has been too long, too many Natty Lites, and too many J-whiches (see previous blog for recipe). The workout is done, I am glad, but I have identified a douchebag... just one. He weighs about 280, on a hot day while drinking tabasco laced laxatives. Think of a sausage casing shoved over a pig knuckle. But it's okay though, he has "all the new" tri-gear. The new hat, the new spandex shirt, the new dick hugger shorts, the new sun glasses and the new energy gel jizz juice that apparently makes you run 88 mph and go back to November 5th, 1955. I guess with 5 grand to blow, you'll be a great triathlete in your head. So with all my blisters, my multiple cramps, and near vomiting... I'm done for today.

Day two: Nearly two days later, a dimebag of motrin an hour, and some beer, I feel better and my knees haven't completely shattered. Today is a run then a swim. Swimming is my shit, B-A-N-A-N-A-S. Fuck yeah, swimming. Looking around, there could be the rogue swimmer in my midst, swimming is sneaky like that. In high school, there was this one guy we called Chubbily Bubbily. That fucker swam like Aquaman. Extra floatation or whatever, it was amazing, he just churned the water like it was the butter he was about to smother his bacon with over his french fries. Anyway, we ran for 40 minutes, I wanted to fucking die, but I did remotely better.... the fat guy didn't pass me. I jumped into the pool and was in absolute heaven, I churned out 200 yards in a great split and was ready to go. It was obvious after midway through the workout, that I might have been the only one who was capable of swimming at any competitive level. Not that it is a big deal, there are tons of people who can't swim, but then there is the others who wear fucking shark skin suits that cost hundreds of dollars, and then jump into a pool only to nearly shit themselves when they get to the deep end. I should have pulled them under and given Darwin a head start. God Bless Natural Selection. Ugh, I left and went home disgusted, but glad that I ran.

Day Three: We biked today, for real, not on the weight room bikes like the other day. I dusted my bike off after three years in a cold, wet layup. WD-40, some rags, some Foreigner, and some Keystone Light, and my bike was fixed. On Monday.... the day was mine. I smoked everyone and it felt great. I love biking fast on an open road, it is exhilarating. Unfortunately, we had to run afterwards, but it was a 30 minute jog which I was fine with. Towards the end, the pot of coffee that I drank during the day ended up coming back to haunt me. I pretty much shit myself and cramped up at the same time. It was amazing, my little running group asked me if I was "okay". I just laughed.

Day Four: The real douchebags unveiled themselves. We did a long run and I crossed the street to run against traffic, which is the "rule of the road" for running. Everyone else did not do that, and they were all pissed, but whatever. The pot of coffee that day came back to haunt me and I cramped again, but I felt much better.... a pretty quick two week turnaround which I was proud about. America, fuck yeah! Today was a pool day too, so even better. I jumped into the pool first and swam a half-mile warmup which felt great. Apparently, some douchebag was annoyed that I swam that far for a warmup since it wasn't part of the workout. Also, the fat ass from earlier, tried lecturing everyone how the right sunglasses are important to buy since they will be able to tell how deep potholes are... like the fucking Terminator or something. He spent 300 dollars on his "biking glasses" which are different from his "running glasses". I wonder which glasses he wears when he chows down 8 cheeseburgers every night, fucking "ruby rose petal colored glasses". Anyway, I did the workout, with some minor problems.

The conclusion is that I hate douchebags, they interfere with everything that I enjoy, but the best thing to do is directly engage them and dismantle their reality. I eventually told the tons-of-fun that he should stop giving advice to people since he didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. I told the chick, who had a problem that I swam too fast. to stop being so fucking slow. In general, I think people do this triathlon shit for someone else besides themselves. I just want to feel pain and push myself so that I can drink and eat whatever I want again. I'm getting sick of Tofu and spinach salads. WTF, I'm tired.