Hey America, how are you?
Let me tell you something America, and please know that I'm talking directly to you, and only to you. Nobody else is included, not even England or Canada, or anybody else. You look good.
I'd like to talk about my running. Let's get dirty and let it all hang out. My motivation for running is a bit low at the moment. I go through some periods of enthusiasm, and I strung together a small (12 day) running streak that ended last week. I found a nice race called the Flying Monkey Marathon that I think I can get excited about, but it comes in fits and starts for now.
The point I want to make is that, life is difficult for a young and healthy white man. Who is there to feel my pain? Nobody cares what we do, since we're young and healthy. If we train like crazy and run a marathon, it doesn't mean that much because we're young and healthy, and that kind of thing should be no problem for us. And things are especially problematic for young and healthy men like me who are generally well below average in athletic endeavors. A couple years ago, I trained like crazy and even ran every single day for more than six months and I ran a marathon in 4:17, and a half marathon in 1:49. These times were great for me and I'm proud of them, but they're below average for someone my age.
But what people don't know about me, is that I've had a bone in my leg since the day I was born. I don't like to talk about it since I don't really want any pity. Please consider that when you see my race times. I'm doing all this with a bone the size of a full-grown ferret in my right leg.
Thanks for your time.