Idiot Mainer Trades Money For Sweat

running, fitness, health, humor, Babe Ruth, Modern PhilosopherIn what could go down in the annals, Modern Philosophers, as the worst trade in history after the Red Sox trading Babe Ruth to the Yankees, and Jack trading a cow for “magic” beans, some idiot in Maine today actually traded money for sweat.

That idiot, of course, was me.

I don’t know how much sweat is currently worth on the open market, but I ended up with a lot of it out of the deal.

What the hell is he prattling on about?  Is there a point to this story?

On the first morning I didn’t have to wake up at 5:00 to maximize the amount of overtime money I could earn, I decided to pass on sleeping in, and got up to go for a run.

I don’t know what’s crazier…

The idea of my passing up on a chance to make extra money, or the concept of my wanting to go for a run.

He does hate the running.  He mentions that repeatedly on his blog!

In my defense, Modern Philosophers, I had no choice in giving up the money.  That was a decree handed down to the people in the districts by the big wigs in The Capitol.

But choosing to run was definitely all my fault.

I recently fired my life coach.  He told me the best way to get over the fact that the Sweet Irish Girl chose to remain on her side of the ocean was to work non-stop and eat comfort food whenever I found myself thinking about her or missing her.

What’s that coach’s contact information?  I like the way he thinks.  Well, except for the constant working part…

All that did was exhaust me and make me put on way too much weight.

And I still haven’t stopped thinking about her.  I don’t sit around the house moping and crying anymore, but she’s always in my thoughts and my heart is still somewhere among the fields of clover.

Such a lovely, but sad image.  He really knows how to tug on my heartstrings…

But I digress…

running, health, fitness, humor, Modern PhilosopherDespite having not run in several weeks, I got my lazy rump out of bed, and hit the road before the sun was even awake.

I’m not going to lie…

He’s like George Washington.  They don’t make Presidents like that anymore!

The run was a bit of a struggle, but nowhere near as horrific as I’d envisioned it to be as I tossed and turned all night dreading my morning adventure.

While the buckets of sweat I got out of the trade won’t do me any good when it comes time to pay the mortgage, being healthier should somehow benefit me in the long run.

At least that’s what I assume my new life coach would say.

As many of you have pointed out to me over the last couple of days, money isn’t everything and I need to take some time to relax and enjoy life.

Clearly, a 3 mile run before sunrise is neither relaxing, nor enjoying life, but it’s an investment towards a happier, less stressful future.

Patrick Dempsey, Can't Buy Me Love, humor, fitness, health, relationships, Modern PhilosopherAs the great Modern Philosopher Patrick Dempsey once taught us long before he went off to medical school to become Dr. McDreamy, money can’t buy us love.

Quite frankly, I don’t know if love is something I’d even want to purchase at this time were it available at a local market for a reasonable price.

Only get it if it’s a deal!

My heart isn’t ready for a new love yet, and it can’t let go of my last love.  So perhaps the best thing for my heart right now is a steady diet of cardiovascular activities.

I’m going to pencil in another run for Thursday morning.  I’ve earned a chance to sleep in tomorrow, and I’m actually looking forward to staying up past 9:00 tonight.

Do you think he’s ready for a later bedtime?  He has been displaying some real signs of maturity lately, so let’s allow it this one night and see what happens…

Who knows?  Maybe once I get back into a running routine and the numbers on the scale get smaller, I can try to trade all my sweat for something else.

I hear the Red Sox are always in the market for a good deal…

Follow me on Pinterest.  I promise I’ve showered after my run, so being downwind of me is no longer a problem!

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About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
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