Because of the fantastic headline

...and because my Dad is one of those [hardcore, $200-sneaker buying, carb-loading, energy-gel slurping, nipple-taping] crazies who talks about eurphoric running is while he's dashing off to do his 872 marathon...

I hate running but I really hate cancer
by Barry Dorey

I still do a bit of light jogging each spring to induce a slight stamina boost for my summer soccer pursuits, but I hate every minute before, during and after.

People talk about that "runner’s high" stuff where a sense of euphoria can replace the pain and exertion during a marathon. Maybe I didn’t push far enough into that wacky marathoner range to achieve this natural high. Maybe it’s all hocus-pocus, or worse yet, near-death delirium they are experiencing.

Anyway, the fact is I would rather juggle razor blades or gargle with broken glass than lace up my sneakers to go for a short run through the neighbourhood.

My other main hate is cancer. I have lost more friends and colleagues than I care to count to the garbage. I have old school chums fighting it. And I have a sister-in-law courageously locked in a battle with breast cancer as I type.

Wanna talk about hate or fatigue? You should look into the eyes of someone just before they head to the hospital for a third or fourth cycle of chemo or radiation. They know what’s coming and are dreading it. But they soldier on with it.

Read the full article here.

Related:
A run of biblical proportions