A few days ago, 2.0 announced that we were to start dieting. Twenty-seven of you thought it was a brilliant idea, and my mother sent me an email about eating vegetables.
Sometimes I watch people frolicking in the out-of-doors from my kitchen window as I eat cookies over the kitchen sink. Some of those people are running. Running for fitness. And though exercise might seem preferable to the reduction of caloric intake, I don’t run unless being chased.
That said, several years ago — just before meeting 2.0 — I gave running a try for several
months weeks days. One morning, whilst running from nothing in particular, a most peculiar thing happened. As I approached a man on the sidewalk, he cleared it for me. He moved right off the sidewalk and onto the road. As he did so, he flung his arms out to the side and acted as a human barricade, keeping the path completely clear with his outstretched arms and wide stance. As I passed he yelled, “Good for you!”
I was pretty confused. Mostly because the ‘good for you’ was the kind you expect to hear hollered at someone facing great challenges or adversity in life. It was the kind of ‘good for you’ reserved for someone who learns to walk again after a freak unicycle accident, or a hoarder who has finally managed to find their toilet under 5 million pounds of garbage. Hey! I hear you survived a run-in with a garishly made-up clown in a dark alley! Good for you.
The ‘good for you’ was accompanied by a fist pump in the air, and was yelled loudly — loudly enough to stop a number of people in their tracks to watch me run by. And as I rounded the corner I could hear an enthusiastic, “You go girl!” in the distance.
That’s why I don’t run for fitness. People get creepy about it. And if you aren’t going to run for fitness, you probably shouldn’t bother with the pretence of dieting.
Please pass the cookies.