run, rest, eat, bitch, buy things, cross-train, blog, repeat.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

A Letter

Dear Vanderbilt ROTC,

First off, I've never been clear on what the ROTC stands for or means, but I have a feeling that it's something military-related and I have a feeling that it's something that I was too lazy, drunk/hungover, and dumb to be accepted to when I was in college. So... congrats on being a better student, less of an alcoholic, and more motivated than I was in college! And if it is military-related.. then thanks for your service!

Second of all... this isn't a hate letter as you might have been expecting. I know in the past, I've bitched about how when you do your morning runs as a group, you run me off the sidewalk every single time. I mean, seriously what is it with the pack mentality? Why do people who under normal circumstances would be perfectly nice and make room for all on the sidewalk when they're alone or in a small group, suddenly become assholes when they're in a group?? (Don't even get me started on the hulu-hooper groups. Sheesh).

No, I'm not bitching today... today, I'm actually offering up a thank you.

You see, my Tuesday/Thursday running partner C is off gallavanting and fly fishing in Montana this week, and without someone to meet at 4:50 am... my lazy ass kept hitting the snooze button. As I was enjoying sneaking in the extra 5 minutes at a time of sleep, I started to hear voices. Talking. And I thought... who in their right mind is up at this time in the morning and talking loudly on their balcony?? I considered the possibility of getting out of bed, opening my balcony door in my bedroom and yelling at them to shut the eff up. But, instead, I resorted to yelling from my bed. Not surprisingly, that didn't work.

And then... then... I started hearing counting. Very loud, emphatic counting. Counting that meant something. Counting that was in charge and at large. And I realized... Awwwww... shit. You're the Vandy ROTC and you're back from summer break and all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and exercising your asses off in the parking lot directly behind my place.

I tried to go back to sleep. But I was afraid of having nightmares revolving around this character:
And anyway, it was impossible to drown you out. The counting was constant. If there's some kind of competition for loud counting, I have a feeling you'd kick Belmont's ROTC's ass. It was impossible to ignore, so, I begrudgingly got out of bed, opened my balcony door to see what kind of god-awful torturous exercises they had you doing... and all I saw was you standing in a circle and counting. Loudly.

It was at this point, that I decided to go ahead and take a page from your book. If the ROTC can get up early and count their asses off.. then I can get up early and run!

I did make sure to avoid my regular route, as I knew that if you abandoned counting for running, and I encountered y'all, I'd likely lose my shit and go off on you about early mornings, residential zoning codes, and sharing the damn sidewalk like normal, friendly citizens! And then, because you're the ROTC and you're all bad ass and shit, and I'm just a lazy, cranky runner.. you'd kick my ass.

Anyway, thanks for getting my lazy ass out of bed... thanks for waking me up with your incessant counting and making me cranky which in turn, made me run a little faster.

And please, for the love of god, SHARE THE SIDEWALK. (That goes for you, too, hulu-hoopers!!).

Sincerely,
Amy

5 comments:

Spike said...

That was friggen awesome...every part. I hate getting up early to run, but I'm always glad I did when I'm done.

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