Guess what Internet? Victoria actually got off her duff and went on a run this morning! Yay! I was going to take a picture of my red, sweaty face afterward so that you could see why no one ever hits on me when I work out, but Huz called as soon as I walked in the door and I was busy chatting instead. Not that not being hit on when working out is a bad thing; it’s a good thing, especially when it comes to huge hairy guys who invade my personal space with their odor. Seriously. I was running on the treadmill at the campus gym about a month ago and I chose a machine next to the wall, rather than one in the middle, so that I could have a little privacy – not that I’m too concerned with people looking at the monitor as if they could figure out how much I weigh by looking at the calories I’ve burned (some girls seem to be all weird about this because they intentionally cover the monitor up with their towel!?). But it’s better being along the wall with only one potential person running next to you than to be sandwiched in between two sweaty runners, right? Well, that’s what I thought, until some huge, hairy, bearded dude came up to the treadmill RIGHT FRICKIN’ NEXT TO ME instead of to one of the seven other free treadmills. (This happens to me on the El too. I’ll be the only one in the car and instead of choosing a seat by the window on the opposite end, which is what I would do if there was just one other person in the car, people inevitably sit RIGHT BEHIND ME and breathe on my neck. What gives!?) Anyway, the huge dude jumps on the treadmill next door and starts running, which leaves me sandwiched between the wall and him. I suppose it wouldn’t have been so bad, but the dude was fully clad in sweats (did I mention he was really big and hairy?) and it was like 80 degrees in the gym that day. To top off the space invasion, wearing deodorant was apparently against his religion and his odor invaded my space too. Dear.God.Come.Down.And.Save.Me. This man had body odor like I’ve never smelled – I felt like I was running down a cow-laden street in India, rather than in the clean gym at Loyola. It was SO bad. I tried to continue my run and started breathing through my mouth (which, I guess I already was), but the fumes were just too much. I finally had to quit and went to the rowing machine instead. Note to big, hairy, bearded men wearing sweatpants and no deodorant: be kind and run on a treadmill without people right next to you. Thank you. Oh, and, buy some god damned deodorant, okay? Can’t you smell yourself!?

Ahem. So I went on a run this morning. I almost got run over by the prick in the big making-up-for-a-small-penis truck when he tried to turn left on a yellow/red light. Jerk. But, yay for me, I worked out! It had been too long. Not that it really matters, I suppose, because I’m going to eat one of these everyday on my vacation and probably plenty of this and this.

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