My Friends are Supposed to Protect Me from Myself!!

Ok, I thought I had great friends. I thought we had a very real "friendship bond" kind of thing with each other. They're my friends. They're supposed to protect me from my own innate stupidity!! Why weren't they there???

Problem #1 - They deluded me.
So, I thought, "Hmmm... There is this 8K race coming up. It's for a good cause, and maybe this will be the kick I need to lose the last 10 lbs. Sure, I can do an 8K. How hard can it be?" And my friends were supportive of me, and they said, "Absolutely, you can do it! I believe in you! You signed up, hooray for you!" Maybe it's my mistake. I didn't pick up on any sarcasm, and I didn't hear them laughing their heads off.

Problem #2 - They encouraged me in my madness.
I started training for the 8K, and I thought, "Yes, I will train and prepare. I am reasonably fit, and training will be good for me. How hard can it be?" And my friends were supportive of me, and they said, "You will feel so much better for doing this. You are healthy, and you will feel empowered. This is such a great thing that you are doing for yourself. You can train, no problem! I believe in you!" Again, I didn't hear sarcasm, but perhaps it's because my muscles were screaming too loudly.

Problem #3 - They didn't stop me when my stupidity gained ambition and momentum.
So, I'm out walking and jogging my little heart out (no, literally, I think my heart is coming out of my chest), and I stop at the Convention Center steps. Grandiose visions of a super fit and athletic me, running to the top of the steps, and just like Rocky, doing a very triumphant jogging dance filled my head. However, I can't leave Mr. Baby in the stroller because I am afraid of being arrested by some police officer, so what did I do? I put him on my shoulders and I ran up and down the first two flights of steps at the Convention Center - all seven sections. That's four times going up, and four times going down. I felt like my legs and butt were about to implode. And the first flight of stairs was fine, but with each flight after that, I became less and less like Rocky, and more and more like a beached whale trying to heft itself up the stairs. It was so sad.

I think I may need leg and butt transplants. Something has definitely gone terribly wrong with mine. Where were my friends???? Why didn't they stop me and say, "You know, this is not such a great idea." (And yes, I would like some cheese with my whine. As long as my cheese is cheesecake and my whine is a huge glass of Merlot with morphine!)

So I complained to my friends, and I told them that they let me down. These are a few of their responses:

"Are you trying to be Rocky?"
"Are you training for the Marines?"
"Well, quite frankly, you're crazy!"
"I would've chanced being arrested for child abandonment."

I was so upset! And then they got all supportive on me, and I lost my righteous indignation.

"I am so impressed!"
"You rock! I wish I was there to cheer you on!"
"You go, girl!"
"I still believe in you! And you will be so ready for the race."
"I know you can do it."
"I'll bring you some aspirin."

~And the one that broke me:
"Let's go walking, and I'll do the steps with you!"

Not only did my friends rally around me, comfort and sympathize with me, one of my friends actually came out and ran steps with me! How can you argue with friends who support you in your decisions, cheer you on through the pain and discouraging moments, and even volunteer to torture themselves right alongside with you?


............I have such awesome friends!