I've taken to surfing Trip Advisor and Yelp to find annoying reviews. It was an amusing day when I realized that people write online reviews of trails. When writing a review, it's best to think about how the review will reflect on you. For example, when ranking a trail that small children can do, complaining about it being ranked "moderately difficult" just makes you look lazy and out of shape. It's amazing learning that there are people out there that will jump on their smart phone to complain about a 2km trail being falsely advertised as moderate before they consider that maybe the problem isn't with the trail, but that they maybe could benefit from moving every so often.
I also enjoyed the review that talked about how they wore shoes with no tread and brought their little white dog on a trail described as "rigorous". They did not care for the many "opsticals" (things like rocks, roots and ground...or as most people call it "the trail"), or the fact that there wasn't a sign to guide them to the humongous lookout that the trail follows for a significant period.
It brings me sadness that more idiots aren't posting their negative trail experiences on the internet, because it's like reading train wreck restaurant reviews, except when they're ranking a trail I know that no waiters were harmed in the making of my entertainment. People raging against nature being nature-like makes me giggle.
In honour of these brave souls writing their tragic man-vs-nature tails, I hope (unlike Miss Moderate-was-too-hard, I admit to my shortcomings...in this case my issues with follow-through) to start a series of trail reviews on this blog.
Wednesday, 30 September 2015
Thursday, 24 September 2015
Why is it always a BMW?
While leaving the gym for a run the other day, I nearly got hit in the parking lot. I saw the car coming and thought that I would be safe if I paused in the motorcycle parking spot that I was already physically occupying. Little did I know that the car speeding towards me wanted to occupy that space as well on its way to park in the spot across from it. Luckily, they stepped on the break before I became a pancake, then gunned it into their spot after I moved. I shook my head and continued on my way. It wasn't until I returned that I realized exactly how big an ass they were...
...and of course, it's a BMW. Why is it that it feels like every time someone is driving like a complete maniac, it'll turn out to be a BMW? In fact, it's so common that the one time I was driving behind a BMW that appeared not to be a completely selfish lunatic, it was notable (and I apologize if that one person happens to be reading this, although I'd assume they must have been borrowing the car if I thought BMW drivers could possibly be nice enough to have friends or do favours for the few that they have...on second thought, they must have stolen it, which still makes them less of an ass than most BMW drivers).
Whatever. I have long accepted that if I see a BMW, I need to be prepared to get cut off or tailgated or turned into roadkill, so I just try to avoid them. But, the one thing that I can't figure out is how does this happen? When people buy a BMW, is it because they see that asshole on the road and think, "You know what? I want to be that guy." Is it in the manual? Do they force them to sign a contract that says "If there are two choices on the road, I will always choose the one that will cause the other person on the road to fear for their life or, if such a choice is not available, I will find an option that will, at the least, cause them to lament their commute and all the jackasses on the road."
There must be cheaper ways to brand yourself as an asshole. In case anyone who would like to be a BMW jerk, but doesn't have the money is reading, here are a few ideas for being an asshole on a budget:
1. Get one of those fake e-bikes. You know, the ones that replace the "e" part with a lawnmower motor, to ensure that anyone trying to enjoy a pleasant walk/run in the forest gets to smell your exhaust the entire time.
2. Become a YouTube commenter.
3. Go to any retail store at closing time, ideally time it so that they are literally on their way to lock up. Call to them to wait so that you can come in quickly. Browse for half-an-hour, ask for lots of help. Buy nothing.
4. Raise an idiot. Send them to public school so that you can yell at their teacher.
5. Grab some friends who are also interested in cheap assholery. Walk slowly in a big line on a busy city street or bike path. Come to a dead stop at completely random intervals.
 |
| This was definitely not the only free spot |
Whatever. I have long accepted that if I see a BMW, I need to be prepared to get cut off or tailgated or turned into roadkill, so I just try to avoid them. But, the one thing that I can't figure out is how does this happen? When people buy a BMW, is it because they see that asshole on the road and think, "You know what? I want to be that guy." Is it in the manual? Do they force them to sign a contract that says "If there are two choices on the road, I will always choose the one that will cause the other person on the road to fear for their life or, if such a choice is not available, I will find an option that will, at the least, cause them to lament their commute and all the jackasses on the road."
There must be cheaper ways to brand yourself as an asshole. In case anyone who would like to be a BMW jerk, but doesn't have the money is reading, here are a few ideas for being an asshole on a budget:
1. Get one of those fake e-bikes. You know, the ones that replace the "e" part with a lawnmower motor, to ensure that anyone trying to enjoy a pleasant walk/run in the forest gets to smell your exhaust the entire time.
2. Become a YouTube commenter.
3. Go to any retail store at closing time, ideally time it so that they are literally on their way to lock up. Call to them to wait so that you can come in quickly. Browse for half-an-hour, ask for lots of help. Buy nothing.
4. Raise an idiot. Send them to public school so that you can yell at their teacher.
5. Grab some friends who are also interested in cheap assholery. Walk slowly in a big line on a busy city street or bike path. Come to a dead stop at completely random intervals.
Tuesday, 22 September 2015
Why aren't there special races for men who suck?
As a woman, I often find myself concerned that running is not pink enough and that my fragile lady-legs won’t be able to get through long races. I no longer need to fear though, because race organizers have caught onto the fact that women need easier races with more pink than a 3 year old's princess party. Huzzah!
Why do an IronMan, when I can do an Iron Girl? Or Tough Mudder when there’s Mudderella? I’ll get just as many Facebook likes, and I don’t have to actually work out that hard to get there. Actually, I’ll get more, because I’ll have so much more time to spend documenting my training on social media. It’s the perfect situation!
In case you can’t tell, I’m being sarcastic. It’s exhausting watching race organizers marketing easier versions of already co-ed sports to women, because of how often women buy into it. I’ve never felt that my extra X chromosome was out of place at any race or triathlon that I’ve done. Women are just as capable of training for a marathon, an Ironman or an ultra as any men. Biology might make them, on average, slower, but it doesn’t stop them from getting to the finish line. Making easier versions of some of the races that need the most dedication takes all the fun out of finishing and imagining that the runners high is worth all the wasted Saturday mornings, even if the finish line is pink.
The thing that’s most annoying is that all the women who buy into this idea that they need an easier version of bucket list challenges will never know how amazing co-ed races are. This is for one simple reason: they allow even the most average woman to chick annoying guys. Until you’ve felt the thrill of passing that guy that keeps walking for the 4th time and listening to him mutter “f*ck” under his breath, you really haven’t lived. Honestly, I am an incredibly average runner, but with just a touch of training, I can easily embarrass some guy who didn’t bother to train, but still assumes he can kick my ass (for all the same reasons that people believe women need easier races…hence me finding the entire idea insulting). If anyone needs a special easy race, it’s that asshole.
26.2 Reasons that Your 26.2 Bumper Sticker Annoys Me
1. We're in Canada and we are on the metric system. Get a 42.2 bumper sticker or go home.
2. Don't you think it's a little braggy?
3. As far as bragging goes, it's pretty ineffective. The only people who understand it are those who have also run a marathon, and are thus not so impressed by your achievement.
4. Most normal people, who are the people you should really be bragging to, aren't sure what the difference is between a 5km and a marathon.
5. If you really want to celebrate your marathon with whoever happens to be tailgating you at the moment, why not a picture of a stick figure that can't go down stairs?
6. You could also have one of those stick figure families, but one where the mother/father is absent because they're out on a long run instead of spending quality time with their loved ones.
7. Or just print a copy of your finishing picture. You know, that one where you thought your hands were in the air in triumph, but they barely made it past your shoulders and your face screamed, "Why can't I just die already?"
8. Running a marathon is supposed to be a private struggle. An internal mental battle to overcome pain in order to achieve a completely pointless distance.
9. If everyone who ran a marathon got a bumper sticker every time, many now empty cars would be covered in them, creating a hideous blur of 2s and 6s.
10. I'm not impressed that you ran a marathon when you're in your SUV heading to work. Get out of the car and run, you lazy asshole.
11. Another more acceptable way of bragging is an Instagram picture of your blood stained t-shirt because no one had told you about nipple chaffing.
12. Or a picture of you standing awkwardly at the finish line because your legs are too broken to handle the added weight of the medal that you wore for the rest of the day.
13. It had better not be beside a 13.1 sticker. There is no space on your trunk for redundancy.
14. Did you really suffer through a marathon just to brag to strangers who are mainly annoyed that you're a bad driver?
15. When I see someone waddling down the street on a Monday morning, I'm impressed. A numbers sticker does nothing for me.
16. If you have his and hers 26.2 stickers, I'm mainly annoyed because I'm pretty sure that if my partner and I tried to run a marathon together, only one of us would survive to buy a sticker.
17. Unless you are advertising that you can currently run 26.2 miles if we get caught in gridlock traffic and I need help, I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care.
18. When is the last time you saw a bumper sticker with how much someone can bench press?
19. Or the number of hot dogs they can eat in one sitting?
20. Or the amount of time they spent in labour with their kid?
21. The point is, we're all awesome but most of us realize the person looking for an opportunity to gun it past us doesn't really care.
22. Maybe you believe that your bumper sticker is just for you. False. You see it the least of anyone out there.
23. If it was about you, it would be on your rear view mirror.
24. Even if it is about you, most people who've run a marathon can remember that they did it, even if they don't really remember it accurately. They need a sticker to remind them of the mantra they used to stop themselves from puking in the last 10km, not to remind them how long it was.
25. I could get behind it if you added a second bumper sticker that said "<--this is how long a marathon is (in miles)", because at least you're educating people and will save other runners from having to answer "How long is your marathon?"
26. You are aware that even many runners will admit that the main reason for choosing to run a marathon is stupidity. You might as well just get a bumper sticker that says, "I'm with stupid...if I'm a passenger in this car".
26.2 If you are currently running a marathon and the sticker is plastered to your butt, I apologize because you probably made me giggle through my tears. Your bumper sticker is less annoying...for now.
2. Don't you think it's a little braggy?
3. As far as bragging goes, it's pretty ineffective. The only people who understand it are those who have also run a marathon, and are thus not so impressed by your achievement.
4. Most normal people, who are the people you should really be bragging to, aren't sure what the difference is between a 5km and a marathon.
5. If you really want to celebrate your marathon with whoever happens to be tailgating you at the moment, why not a picture of a stick figure that can't go down stairs?
6. You could also have one of those stick figure families, but one where the mother/father is absent because they're out on a long run instead of spending quality time with their loved ones.
7. Or just print a copy of your finishing picture. You know, that one where you thought your hands were in the air in triumph, but they barely made it past your shoulders and your face screamed, "Why can't I just die already?"
8. Running a marathon is supposed to be a private struggle. An internal mental battle to overcome pain in order to achieve a completely pointless distance.
9. If everyone who ran a marathon got a bumper sticker every time, many now empty cars would be covered in them, creating a hideous blur of 2s and 6s.
10. I'm not impressed that you ran a marathon when you're in your SUV heading to work. Get out of the car and run, you lazy asshole.
11. Another more acceptable way of bragging is an Instagram picture of your blood stained t-shirt because no one had told you about nipple chaffing.
12. Or a picture of you standing awkwardly at the finish line because your legs are too broken to handle the added weight of the medal that you wore for the rest of the day.
13. It had better not be beside a 13.1 sticker. There is no space on your trunk for redundancy.
14. Did you really suffer through a marathon just to brag to strangers who are mainly annoyed that you're a bad driver?
15. When I see someone waddling down the street on a Monday morning, I'm impressed. A numbers sticker does nothing for me.
16. If you have his and hers 26.2 stickers, I'm mainly annoyed because I'm pretty sure that if my partner and I tried to run a marathon together, only one of us would survive to buy a sticker.
17. Unless you are advertising that you can currently run 26.2 miles if we get caught in gridlock traffic and I need help, I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care.
18. When is the last time you saw a bumper sticker with how much someone can bench press?
19. Or the number of hot dogs they can eat in one sitting?
20. Or the amount of time they spent in labour with their kid?
21. The point is, we're all awesome but most of us realize the person looking for an opportunity to gun it past us doesn't really care.
22. Maybe you believe that your bumper sticker is just for you. False. You see it the least of anyone out there.
23. If it was about you, it would be on your rear view mirror.
24. Even if it is about you, most people who've run a marathon can remember that they did it, even if they don't really remember it accurately. They need a sticker to remind them of the mantra they used to stop themselves from puking in the last 10km, not to remind them how long it was.
25. I could get behind it if you added a second bumper sticker that said "<--this is how long a marathon is (in miles)", because at least you're educating people and will save other runners from having to answer "How long is your marathon?"
26. You are aware that even many runners will admit that the main reason for choosing to run a marathon is stupidity. You might as well just get a bumper sticker that says, "I'm with stupid...if I'm a passenger in this car".
26.2 If you are currently running a marathon and the sticker is plastered to your butt, I apologize because you probably made me giggle through my tears. Your bumper sticker is less annoying...for now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)