Fuck Running

I loathe running with every sense of my being. I don't get it. I have tried and tried but I never get that Oprah "Aha!" moment where I think, "Damn! Why haven't I tried this before?? This is fun as HELL!"
Nope. Instead every time I try to run I get the horrible burning in my lungs as if I smoked a pack of unfiltered Camels last night. (I didn't.) My legs feel like they weigh 300 lbs. each. My hips begin to ache and I already know the SHORT amount of time I have committed will make me so tense in my lower extremities tomorrow I will walk like I had a double hip replacement. And then there's the side cramps. And the inevitable "holy-shit-I-really-hope-I-don't-yack-my-shit-all-over-this-treadmill" sensation.
Fuck running.

I've heard the "I'm an adrenaline junkie!" Or the "It's SOOOO good for you!" Or "It feels so great! I could go all day!"
Shut your God damn, lightweight, overpriced Nike track shoe-wearing pie holes. I like the adrenaline I get when I ride a roller coaster. Or see a scary movie. Or before I go onstage. Running "adrenaline" is my body's way of saying, "Slow the hell down, bitch! Those tits are WAY too big to move like that!!" And let me add that to my long list of anti-running reasons. Big boobs and feet slapping on the pavement while your body bounces up and down can only lead to a few things: bad back, nipple erection/tig ol' bitty wardrobe malfunction, or black eyes. I will power walk ANY day to save my tits from beating the shit out of myself.
Running is good for me? So is a colon cleanse but I sure as shit can't do that every day. I will choose things that are good for me and make me GOOD to be around. Like copious amounts of caffeine, new shoes, and vacations to tropical islands. Run next to me and you will hear me whine more than Demi Lovato at eating disorder camp. Not cool.
You know what feels great? Taking a good shit every morning. Or sleeping through the night without insomnia. Or wearing your skinny jeans and being able to zip them up without sweating. Running does not feel good. I imagine getting ass-raped by an elephant would be more soothing.

I've tried the treadmill, I've tried a track, I've tried the sidewalk and the street. Unless I can run and use someone else's body to get the same energetic bullshit adrenaline crackhead results, it will not be happening. I am not signing up for any "short little 5K's" or plan on training by running and walking with you. I will run for only a few reasons: if I am about to shit my pants, if I am on fire, if anyone is trying to fuck with my kids, or if there is an All You Can Carry Jimmy Choos For $10 Sale. Other than that, yes, the treadmill I am standing next to is free. Enjoy your torture, you masochistic freak.