Shunning running

As the seasons move in slow but discernible cycles, now they seem to have turned to my marathon training once more.
It's that time of year again.
Once a year I run the Chester marathon and I've no idea why?

I hate it.

Being a seasoned professional of meager ability, and this year being my ninth marathon, the usual questions I raise such as...

'Can I cope with really hellish blisters?'
and 'Can I complete the distance'  have been replaced by far darker queries, such as...

...'Do I mind the world seeing a dark wet patch spreading across my groin just because I'm prepared to urinate in my pants to get the best time possible?'

...and 'What's running all about anyway? It’s fairly irrelevant as a skill since man stopped having to run away from giant tigers and bears?'

.....and 'Rather than an explosive release of pent-up energy, shall I take in the beauty of the expansive Cheshire and Welsh landscape at a more leisurely pace or with a fixed grin and hollow doll-like gaze, should I run at full pelt and abandon?'

Thoughts like these drift across my fronal lobe on a regular basis.

As every year passes, my crumbling body becomes more eroded by the gruelling training it takes to complete this goddam race.
I start to doubt myself.
My time could be better spent writing an era-defining novel, formulating strategies for world peace or just contemplating nature on a profound level, anything, instead of running for hours on end.

I hate it. 

Running is no fun whatsoever.

....honestly, you'd of thought after running one of these stupid agonising marathons every year that I'd be pretty decent at it by now wouldn't you?

Nope.

Every year there's extended periods when I can barely move in case my kneecaps fall off.
I've tried to vary my training routine between running excessively stupid amounts of miles and watching TV with my leg on a stool because my tendons have snapped like piano wire and left me temporarily disabled.

There’s no gain without pain, so after being rushed to hospital with a strangulated hernia I must be healthier than Superman you'd of thought?

Rubbish.

My body is in a constant flux of corrosion

I should feel much fitter and full of energy.....and I'm sure I will be once this pulled calf muscle heals and I can get off the sofa without weeping with pain.

So, guys, as you can see, I'm really feeling the benefits of this fast approaching marathon ....but only when I'm not recovering from agonising injuries where I can’t leave the house due to a ruptured ligament or twisted testicle.

So, in conclusion, the way I see it, it's all about getting your life in balance.
Offsetting the fun with the toil.
.....balancing being sat on the sofa, staring blankly into the middle-distance eating crisps for 12 hours with hard exercise... .....balancing all the partying wildly with reading, study and creativity...
....balancing feeling really brilliant about yourself with hammering rusty nails through your private parts into a plank of wood.

...and finally, if you're thinking of a life-changing experience and challenge, climb Everest or swim with sharks because, honestly, running is shit.