That fucking kid...

Got a rugrat?  Me too, pain in my fucking ass.  I bought a fucking running stroller so I can take the little anklebiter with me on runs.  What does this fucking get me?  Well, on a longer run, I actually have to stop whilst dripping sweat from greasy wop forehead to wipe my daughter's ass.

Fuck this!

Can't do shit about it, but suck it up and push through.  I guess it's better than dragging a Christing Radio Flyer behind me.  But, shit, you'd know I was coming.  Rattlerattlerattle...

Point is, that stupid thing provides some resistance.  Plus, she's a fat little sausage, so schlepping 30 extra pounds on top of the 20 pound stroller gets my heart pumping fine.  Any fatter and I'd be kicking her around like a bunch 6-year olds playing soccer.  Once you don't have to push the tubby fuck-trophy on race-day you'll be flying so goddamned fast.

Who's got kids?  How do you cope?  Sound off, vaginafaggots!

EDIT: So you're all aware, I love my daughter with every bit of my soul.  Best.  Fuck-trophy.  Ever.

Offended?

Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot.  Mind numbing, innit?  If you got out and walked yesterday, good on ya!  Do it again today, except this time, dumb it down to 20 minutes again.  How's that for an incentive?  You do awesome on Wednesday and you get to take it easy the day after.  Pretty fucking rad if you ask me.  That's your goal for today, clean and easy.

You're truly becoming a running retard!  You are well on your way to becoming retarded for running.  Feeling tired?  Get your second wind and run retard strong!  Fact: actual people who themselves are affected by some level of retardation (mental or physical) do not care about the word retard - it's people who aren't affected and think they're on some holy crusade to end all name-calling are those who don't like it.  This, in turn, makes them retards.  So...grab your sneakers and do something about it!  Go full retard!