Lately I’ve started jogging, and in case you don’t know this is kinda a big deal. Needless to say I suck at it, but I make way around the track. Pessimistic as I am about exercising and weight loss and health and junk, it actually feels kinda good…when you’re going downhill anyhow.
So I’m at the track doing my thing, feeling like Rocky Balboa and thinking about drinking raw eggs as I bounce along to listening to LMFAO (Listen to LMFAO via YouTube) , fantasizing about screwing Redfoo with this new hot and magical body I will obtain (yeah right!, Haha).
Yes, I would like to get at him.
Then, whoa! Outta nowhere, some blonde chick passes me. Complete with hair in a neat ponytail, leggings, and ipod strapped to her arm looking fancy and high-tech, while I was in sweats, a hoodie, hair thrown into a 2 second pony, with my ipod in my hoodie pocket. Where the hell did she come from?! I was rudely thrown out of my ‘runner’s high’ or whatever; probably just my imagination. Nothing like a skinny blonde can kill a fat girl’s fantasy. My ego went from a 10 to -2 in an instance. How dare this chick out do me? Me! I mean, I am ERIN, the one and only. Who does she think she is? So then starts the cycle of hating on myself; I know all girls do it, probably guys too. (“Stop! Hating is bad!”-- See part at 4:15 for reference) But damn…in the blink of the eye, I can go from generally happy and feeling pretty good about myself to being pissed with tears in my eyes, cursing this stranger as I consider plastic surgery…and losing all hope getting with Redfoo (slight exaggeration, FYI). Of course within all this is the whole comparison deal. ‘’Well, I am soooo much tanner than her, look at that pasty ass.’’ ‘’But…she has a tiny waist; well, well…at least I’m not Snooki size!’’ etc.*Sigh* Girls. We’re freaking crazy.
I felt really bad at about tearing this girl up, even as I was doing it. I mean she’s just there for the same reasons as me probably, I know she wasn’t trying to 1-up me, and I certainly don’t expect someone to lower their expectations of themselves to accommodate me, not at all. She’s just obviously been doing this longer than me. We both minded our own business of course, no cat fights on the track (sorry, not sorry, guys). And she seemed like a sweet girl, at least from what I could tell as she occasionally lapped me. That’s right, OCCAISIONALLY lapped me :)
Sometimes you’re just the ego booster for someone else.
(I own NO rights or whatever to any of these pictures.)