I've been in a funk for the last week and have been struggling to stay motivated. The Miami Half is on short week away, but this week has just been a suck fest!
Wednesday the 18th, I got the bright idea to jump rope for 30 minutes even though I hadn't jump roped for a few weeks. My calf was super tight the next day, but I still forced myself to run my 6 miler. Afterward, I could hardly walk. I took Friday and Saturday off to let it rest up. Sunday I ran my 12 mile long run. Not smart. Monday off again. Tuesday failed to drag my ass out bed in the morning, felt like crap all day, work sucked, and I skipped out on most of my workout. Wednesday was worse! Skipped out on the gym altogether. Hated the world, life, and could muster the energy to do anything but sit in front of the TV and watch Hockey. Thursday morning I pulled a Lazarus and rose from the fucking dead . . . actually the Lazarus comparison isn't right . . .it was more like I had a Lindsay Lohan-esque moment of clarity and fleetingly pulled my shit together enough to run my morning 6 miler yesterday before work. But last night, I was back on the couch eating DiGiorno pizza and watching 4 straight hours of How I met you Mother. The low point came when I found myself reading the character backgrounds on Wikipedia. Honestly not sure how close I came to totally madness, but I am really thankful that I don't keep firearms, hunting gear, or renaissance fair equipment in our apartment!
When I went to bed, I thought that I had been through the worst of it and that the sheer joy of Friday's arrival would be enough to dislodge my sorry ass from the bed . . . but o-fucking-no, when my alarm went off at the ungodly hour of 4:20am, my first reaction was to go into full on Frankenstein Fire! Bad! Must . . . Smash . . . Shit . . . Now . . . mode and go back to bed. But after nearly destroying my alarm, as I lay there thinking what a waste of a human being I was . . . and a song came to mind. A glorious song of self loathing and hate. A song so annoying and ill composed that it forced me to get up from my bed and face this effing dread fest of a day. A song so stupid that it made me hate myself so much that my only options were to drown myself in the toilet bowl or go to the Y and workout. Some people use power mantras to motivate themselves, but they just don't work for me. No, I have to go all the way down through the The Rabbit Hole of self revulsion and today this song was what I found and brought back to the world with me! Enjoy!
Who's the Slackest of the Slack
That's sad for you to be!
You're, A Waste!
You're a Prick!
Your're as unwelcome as can be!
Slacker Greg!(slacker greg)Slacker Greg!(slacker greg)
forever let us flip him off!
(Off! Off! Off!)
Come and sing this stupid song
and join the pity partee!
Slacker Greg club!
Slacker Greg club!
we take a nap, we feed our faces
we do not a thing and we go no place
all around the world we're slacking off!
Boo, slacker greg club!