Like all good members of the overmedicated stimulant generation, Kyle spent his formative years bouncing around dancefloors and dodging sleep like he was crashing on Freddy Krueger’s couch after leaving his toilet seat looking like the wettest of dreams.
He was a walking cross between Pacman and a substitute maths teacher and was chasing otherworldly thrills before melting into an anxious pool of Gargonzolian sweat every weekend.
He was getting far too old for this kind of carry-on and knew things had to change. How was he ever to find the love of his life while moaning about a sore back and his office’s hot desk policy a young, wild and free partyling?
Needless to say, it had been a while since he had his tongue in anything but the dregs of another bag, desperately getting his $500 worth.
He had to reclaim the dawn. No longer would the peeking sun and chirping birds fill him with existential dread. They would fuel him.
So he started bingeing Joe Rogan podcasts and joined a run club to fill the void. It was a perfect fit because he could keep sweating like a lunatic while leering like a Bunbury tradie driving past the ill-fated Groovin’ the Moo festival.
To say he came in hot would be quite an understatement. Dressed in full skins, Garmin watch & Flipbelt, Kyle was ready to show the local talent his skills. Alas, aerobic fitness isn’t a mindset no matter how many scoops of preworkout he’d smashed before coming.
His first session was rough to say the least and he couldn’t help feeling like he was getting fewer side-eye lip bites and more earnest inquiries about his well-being. Not to worry, he was in the run club Whatsapp and that was the goal.
Despite feeling like a pug with hay fever, Kyle so learned that you could get a lot higher posting about run clubs than you could from anything that found its way down the dirt track to his internal Brokeback shack.
Despite having the running grace of Ronald McDonald pursuing a school bus, Kyle was driven to outdo every other bloke in the club. This was his opportunity to finally free himself from the horrors of wading through Perth’s horrendous leftover dating pool.
So just like that, he was a born-again runner and no one was spared. The rhythm of the New Balance against the pavement pulsated savagely through his balls and the only way to reduce the swelling was to develop an intense interest in ice baths. Oh yes, he talks about ice baths. A lot.
In fact, the ice bath is how he finally broke through the 4th wall of social club membership and invited one of the girls on an ice bath date.
Maybe it was the grundies chipolata or maybe it was the way he squealed like a helium’d up piglet as he submerged himself but she felt just sorry enough for Kyle to continue the date at a local Yo-Chi bar.
They chatted for hours as Kyle regaled her with stories about how he should’ve made the Eagles, his daily nootropic regime, and his strong belief that anyone who doesn’t run should be culled.
Hey, her biological clock was ticking and at least Kyle had a steady job and no wedding ring tan. So they enjoyed a few vodka, soda & limes and went back to Kyle’s place.
Speaking of running, he had to quickly dash into his room to take down the Joe Rogan poster he keeps on his wall to motivate him. With that hidden, he was reading for some very vigorous exercise.
He finally got some cake but he wasn’t going the distance. Perhaps he’d dreamed too hard about his moment or perhaps all those weird chemicals he’s buying online had taken some air out of his wacky inflatable waving arm downstairs dude.
After belting it around like Logan Paul against a geriatric opponent, Kyle had a passable salute and figured he was on the home stretch. Alas, he failed to pace himself, every runner’s biggest mistake.
Passion soon turned to the sad-nothings as she suddenly remembered her cat needed feeding and “had to run”. No ice bath could soothe this burn.
At the next run club, one of Kyle’s competitors suggested they work on a few sprints today, before turning to Kyle and suggesting he’d be the man for the job to lead that.
Needless to say, Kyle is now looking for a new running club.