Michelle Obama's Poster Child

Jogging is a wonderful habit, and one of my favorite things to do. Getting out in the sun, hearing your feet thud on the concrete, smelling fresh-cut grass and listening to birds chirping can be very therapeutic. Personally, I see it as a leisure activity- something to do to keep in shape. It doesn’t require fancy equipment, a coach, or any training. You just stretch a little and take off!

So there I am, jogging down the sidewalk, smiling at the passing cars and waving Miss-America-style to pedestrians. I’ve been running for 10 minutes thinking about how healthy and fantastic I am- Michelle Obama and her health campaign would be so proud of me. I should be their poster child. Still thinking about my future as a potential model, I turn a corner and see something. It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s… a fellow jogger! And then tragedy strikes. Her running shorts are cuter than mine. This means war.

The couch potato non-joggers out there probably don’t understand the seriousness here. But believe me this was an extremely sticky situation. The common courtesy rules of jogging are very similar to gang rules. Just as gang members have rules over who can wear what in the sketchy side of town, joggers have rights over certain streets. Sometimes we even flash gang-signs. Since this little bitch was invading in MY neighborhood, she had no right to be looking cuter than me. Who did she think she was?

The thing about hating another girl is that after the onset of the hate, everything she does becomes exaggeratedly irritating. Look at her ponytail swinging like she’s hot shit. God, the way she blinks is so damn annoying. So obviously to regain my status as “hottest jogger on the block” I had to overtake Miss Priss. Bowing my head, I ran as fast as I could, and accidentally-on-purpose bumped into her while getting ahead. Looking back, I gave her a snobby smile and discreetly put up my gang sign. Feeling satisfied, I kept on jogging.

Because I’m so beautiful, fast, and talented, Miss Priss was apparently intimidated by me. Two minutes later there she came running up, trying to get ahead of me again. By this point I was getting tired of our little game, so I did what any sane jogger would do- I pushed her into an oncoming semi. Haha calm down, I’m kidding! It was just a sedan. That’ll teach her a lesson.

But seriously, I’m joking. She eventually got tired of trying to out-jog me and ran off in a different direction. And that was the last I ever saw of her. But it’s only been 5 hours since the incident so we’ll probably run into each other again sometime. Pun intended.

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