It will come as no surprise to most of you that I jog and do not enjoy myself whilst doing so. I consider it inexpensive therapy, and like therapy it causes deep emotional pain. It's much easier to smoke cigarettes. For a while I tried doing both. In fact, I was inspired not to quit smoking a few years ago when I watched a guy race 6 miles in 30 minutes and then light up a Vantage. When I asked him, "Do you smoke AND jog?" he answered, "Yes, but I wouldn't recommend it." I had previously considered the two activities incompatible, but I ignored his warnings and started jogging right away.
Unfortunately I am not Kenyan so my body was not designed for running. It was designed for sleeping, playing Ping-Pong, and mating. When I jog my body says to me, "If you don't stop jogging right this very second I will bring on the diarrhea SO BAD!" Every step is a battle against nature.
I've found that distancing oneself from one's body, or treating it like it isn't really yours, can help one redistribute the agony of jogging to a place outside the realm of consciousness. Therapists call this "dissociation," and it involves years of practice, but one good place to start is to ask yourself really tough philosophical questions. Like, "Can Pat Tillman really be considered a hero just for voiding a lucrative NFL contract and joining the Army to shoot people he's never met?" And, "If ours is one of countless trillions of universes, could there be other beings playing Ultimate Frisbee out there? And if so, do I really want to know about it?"
Dissociation allows the brain to focus on something other than the fact that your feet are numb, your eyes are burning, your ankles may be broken, your calves are made of wood, and your lungs are filling with fluid.
By the way, I'm a little short on rent money, so this column is now for sale. That's right, if you've got something to say to the 14 other people reading Jock Itch, send $20 and your voice can be heard. Act now and I'll replace my name with your name at no extra charge.
