I am alive! The marathon didn’t kill me. My date of death has been put back to…I dunno…when my heart stops? So instead of telling you about how I died, lets just talk about a fun day.
By fun, I mean a day where death seemed like the way forward!
It started as many do. I woke up. Nothing unusual about that. But I can’t say that the rest of the day followed my usual day.
30 minutes after I got out of bed, I was standing in the shower, razor in hand, shaving my nipples. Tingly! I could give you some reason like “To help the plasters stick better” for my reason, but no, I was just feeling a little daring. Smooth as a….erm…shaven nipple? But on the plus side, the plasters did indeed stick better. Which is what is was all about. Honest.
Two hours later, I was stood in a tent with a hand full of vaseline down my underwear and rubbing my…well…lets just say “groinal area”. It was while I had my hand down my shorts pleasuring myself infront of a tent full of men I didn’t know, that one of them walked up to me and said “Can I have some of that!”. I considered a few things.
1 – Punch him. I mean geez…can’t he see that I am masturbating greasing myself up ready for the big event?
2 – Ask him out on a date and tell him that my wedding ring is actually just a friendship ring. I mean hey, he uses safe greasing. OK, so I would also have to turn gay, and well…he wasn’t a looker. Nice nipples though. He must use Vaseline a lot. I am not kidding. I am fairly sure he uses “man product” on them. The way he put the Vaseline on them was like he was creating the statue of David. It was weird. I didn’t want to look, but wow…the guy finished WAY before the race started. What is that all about?
3 – Hand him my tub of Vaseline, and feel good knowing I stopped him chaffing and having nipples that bleed to hell like I would do for any other runner. Especially a woman runner. And obviously I would need to watch, if not help her put it on. And I would have to bring a camera so I could let her see how I did it. What? I am so NOT a perv. Geez…you try and help someone, and get a label like that!
I went for number 2. I mean 3. Dammit.
Of course, as I looked around, I noticed a lot of men, hand down trousers, one eye twitching all in the name of “stopping a little chaffing”.
A short while later, I ran for 4 hours. I wont bother telling you about the race in detail. Lets say:
37000 people. People dressed up as the devil and many other things. I was sweating. It hurt a bloody lot. My nipples are fine thank you. I needed to use a little more vaseline “down there” in future though as when I had finished, I got a touch cheese grated. So if you ever want to know if my nuts are like balls of sharp metal…well…I just guess they are. Oh, and I got sunburn.
As I crossed the finish line my slow run turned to a staggered walk. My already diminished running style turned more to that of a wounded penguin. I mean holy crap…I had done 20 mile training runs in my training, and could walk at the end. But this time I had a walked like that of someone who had wandered down a dark alley, told the lady of the night to treat me a little rough and she then knocked me unconscious and inserted her piggy bank in to my anus. Sideways. And I hadn’t brought the Vaseline because some guy had used it all to smother his nipples and nuts in them earlier.
Later that night I had 3 beers and fell unconcious. So. Nothing new there than.
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