Somewhere along the way it seems the Metro Parks have become some sort of weird extension of the bar scene where the super-cool (aka not me) hang out.

There is a new dress code that I didn’t get the memo on and also all sorts of other attire and presentation requirements. There was a time, seemed like a few weeks ago.. cause it was, that you could go to the park in your mismatched running attire (as long as it was clean-ish) and pound out your miles among other liked-minded and similarly dressed individuals.

Recently,  however, it was clear that every Facebook meme was alive and well in the Metro Park.

First, yes I was outrun by a mom with her jog stroller and she had two kids in there. And I swear to you one of them was about 40… OK he wasn’t that old. But he was a big kid, which meant she was kicking my a$$. In addition to that she looked awesome. All her clothes matched, she was super fit and she was freshly showered, made up and ready to roll.

Clearly in comparison, I was not.

I texted Lowi about my struggles around this time. She promised she wished she was running with me but I am not sure if that meant she wished she was running or anything was better than the crazy she was dealing with.

Then about 4 miles later I saw the stroller runner again, she was running uphill, with the stroller STILL, and she looked fresh as the morning dew. Hmmm, I started to wonder how this run was going to go. Let me give you a tip. It got worse before it got better.

Around mile 9 things got dicey. Along comes the dynamic duo. They are super-fashionably dressed, at least what they were wearing, because simultaneously they were showing off their awfully fit bodies as much as possible without breaking the law. The female of the pair had very long Julia Roberts-esque hair and it was down and flowing in the breeze. Her abdominal muscles were ripped and showing effort in every move she made.

At that moment I heard a voice in my head that said don’t look down or you’ll see your belly fat currently spilling over the belt of your hydration pack. Good tip brain.

Then her male counterpart breezed by me with his perfectly tanned body, freshly coiffed ‘do and smelling nice but not like you normally smell out on the trail. Where did this Greek god and goddess come from? Are they the new it-people of the trail running scene?

I mean, I did see the sign when I pulled into the park that mention it was a Wetlands Area. Is that Metro-Park speak for Wet T-shirt contest at 10 p.m.? Aside from the fatigue that was building as my miles climbed, my self-esteem was taking a real steep spiral.

While I could only assume somewhere in the park there was a keg and a band I was using the handicap rail in bathroom because my quads and hamstrings were fried.

Don’t get me wrong there were many signs along the way that gave me an indication that on this particular day I was in the wrong place.

But I pushed on. Thankfully, I did because things started to turn around for me. First, the beautiful people passed me again because they were only running 3 miles. That made me feel better in a slightly superior way. I know I should feel bad about it and I am sure I will.

But right now I am going to bask in that one minor point. Then, like manna from heaven, along comes a woman in the other direction. She did look fabulous, however, she was breathing as hard and as loud as freight train through a rural town after 9 pm on a Sunday.

Ahhh, I’ve found my people. If she hadn’t been running in the direction away from my car I might have considered following her just for solidarity.

Sunshine & Sarcasm,

G

Be sure to tune in to Tuesday’s Torture Report. It is a running log of our progress as we train toward fitness, specific races or our latest exercise-related obsession. Lowi’s working toward Becoming Pocahontas and G’s latest adventure goal is Howl at the Moon 8-Hour Ultra.