Bad Idea #472: Streaking

RehabI have so many of my own original bad ideas (see: most of my college boyfriends, ordering the oysters, and rinsing my eyes with peroxide), it is rare that I adopt the bad ideas of my friends too.  But lately, I’ve had a little slump in Bad Ideas Of My Own, likely due to the reality that it’s hard to get into too much trouble when you’re on crutches.

When you are used to attempting out-of-your-league-bad-assness on a regular basis (and mostly failing)and you get injured, your life suddenly loses purpose.  Usually, I try to find it in the bottom of a wine bottle or doughnut box.  In reality, you have to eat a slice of humble pie and just let your body heal.

Mine heals into the texture of uncooked pizza dough.

This could be because being unable to run launches me into a cookie-eating, vino-swilling, pizza-ordering blob of self-pity. Of course, I drink a lot of bone broth, eat my vegetables, and you can bet that pizza is gluten-free.  But my ability to exceed a caloric intake that represents my inertia is rather… a gift.

Enter streaking.  And not the kind our parents did across high school football fields.  Streaking is a way to reestablish healthy patterns (through extreme use of bad ideas) in your life.  It is where you commit to doing something Every. Single. Day.

I have a friend who is on a running streak.  I think his last rest day was sometime during the Korean War.  It is nothing less than inspiring.  If you know you are going to go every day, there is simply no room for excuses.

Obviously, I needed some kind of motivation to not fail, so I took it a step further and made a wager.  I was going to offer my first born, but this appears to be frowned upon in most betting circles.  So we shook hands on A Day of Slavery.  Which means, if I break my streak before 90 days, I’ll probably be changing oil in the buff.

Since you can’t go balls out for 90 days straight, you have to set some rules that allow for active recovery days, the flu, or hangovers.  Our rules are as follows:

1. Train every day for a minimum of 20 minutes.

2. Any sport except sex counts (though I’m still trying to figure out a way to incorporate this).

3. Don’t lose.

There are a variety of benefits to this sort of naive bad idea enthusiasm, including the fact that I’ll have a head start on my New Year’s Resolution.  In the mean time, I’ll rehab my broken wheel and burn off a few holiday eggnogs. It will keep me active despite the reality that we have about 12 minutes of daylight.

And if all goes well, I’ll have a Slave For A Day.

So far, I’ve got him scheduled for organizing my garage and color coding my closet while wearing nothing but a loin cloth and a few whip marks.


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