As we all know, Katie’s not always of sound mind. Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that while she’s on vacation, she foolishly left her website in care of me. Come ON...I can barely keep plants alive. Does she really think I can handle this responsibility? I can only assume that when she asked me, she was A) drunk, or B) completely out of other options.
At any rate, I’m here for Three Things Thursday. I’ve noticed lately that Katie has turned down the ranting on here. You’ve observed that, too, right? Quite frankly, I’m disappointed and bringing snarky back. Here’s three rants I just gotta get off my chest:
1: Beware the Mommy Blogger
I’m getting sick of going to my favorite health and fitness websites and discovering that it’s now a mommy blog. I get it – people hump, babies come out, miracle of life, yada yada – but don’t continue to present yourself as a fitness writer if 80 percent of your writing is now about the current or former contents of your uterus.
What’s even worse is when those now-mommy bloggers look at me and smugly ask “So...when are YOU hopping on the baby train?” Apparently there’s something wrong with my decision not to have children. I’m not saying that having babies is bad, it’s just not for me. Don’t say I’m a bad person, and definitely don’t pity me. Listen, I have boobs that don’t sag or leak, and a vagina that can crack walnuts. Baby train? Pssht...please. I’m on the (clean and quiet) express jet to Happyville.
2: Sneak Your Meat Elsewhere, Please and Thank You
If this reading is your first introduction to me, then you should probably know I’m a vegetarian. I’m not one of those preachy in-your-face types who hand out brochures and throw red paint at people, but I do write for a website called No Meat Athlete, where we’ve got thousands of runners and triathletes who happen to think plants are pretty damn great.
Outside of No Meat Athlete, I know very few vegetarians, and I don’t try to force the life on anyone. It’s not my place to dictate what goes in your body. You’re a big kid. I trust you can make those types of decisions.
So why, then, are people so consumed with getting me to try meat “just one more time?” I don’t get it. On more than one occasion, I’ve had people bring me lunch or a snack out of “the goodness of their heart.” The strange conversation usually goes like this:
ME: Oh, thanks! That’s so sweet! I’m not hungry now, but I’ll dive in later.
THEM: Don’t be silly. Eat now!
ME: I’m really not hungry.
THEM: I insist! I made it especially for you.
ME: Umm...okay. <Takes a bite> Wow, that’s great. Thanks! I’ll eat more later!
THEM: HAHAHAHA! IT HAS CHICKEN BROTH IN IT! YOU ATE MEAT AND YOU LIKED IT!
Seriously, people...I don’t care what you eat, I think we can all agree that’s a dick move. Get a hobby, for cryin’ out loud.
Recently, Katie took on a very important platform in endurance sports: The Whiner. You know the type I’m talking about, don’t you? The one who CONSTANTLY hops on Twitter and Facebook to inform everyone and their uncles “I haaaaaave to run 7 miles today. I don’t waaaaaaaana. Someone come maaaaaaake me. Pleeeeeease. It’s so haaaaard.”
This makes me want to stab a bitch, okay? If you follow it up with my most hated acronym in the history of the world, “LOL,” I will come and stab you again with my stabby knife.
C’mon, guys. No one is making you train. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. We all have those rough days. Certainly all of us are guilty of whining once or twice, but if every single time you talk about your training, you’re complaining, perhaps you should find a different activity for a while.
I am joining forces with Katie as we combat this epidemic of whining. If we must, we will host a telethon, design a line of silicone bracelets, and hold charity runs all over the world to share one very important message:
Man the fuck up. Or, if you can only read the texty-speak: MTFU, LOL!
Thank you, and good night. If anyone needs me, I’ll be raiding Katie’s beer stash until I’m not so angsty anymore. If you see me passed out in her backyard, please put me inside before the mommy bloggers get to me.
Susan Lacke enjoys boxy wine, triathlon and harassing undergrads. After lunch she wears a cape, fights crime and dabbles in feng shui. She can eat just one potato chip, never abuses the word "epic," holds her line, and will always, ALWAYS, tell you when your ass does, in fact, look fat in those jeans.