It is common knowledge that stretching is the single most miserable thing anyone can voluntarily do to themselves short of its mother activity, jogging, of course. I used to stretch intensely a few years ago and have since then ceased to do so regularly. I never saw any added benefit other than increased flexibility, but honestly, what is flexibility good for? Other than the obvious reason which will remain unnamed because my little brother reads my ramblings. Anyway, my point is that stretching after a jog is just one of those things society has collectively agreed is necessary, and should you fail to stretch, you will be shunned. Upon hearing that I only do it sporadically, people who I know don’t even jog suddenly get all up in arms about it and I feel like they’ll defend it to the grave; I’ve seen the most laid-back people become controlling nightmares if the topic of stretching is brought up. God forbid they are just as passionate about something worthwhile.

This has been a segue to my next point. Kindly scroll down.

I have this routine where I end my jogs at the Lincoln. 1) Stop jogging. 2) Find the nearest marble bench. 3) Put face on said bench because at that point my face is hot and the bench is cold. This has alarmed some tourists before. 4) Proceed to stretch on one of the elevated platforms.

The only redeeming part about my stretches is that I always make sure to sit by at least a couple people so that I can eavesdrop. Extra points if they’re speaking a different language. In this way, listening to conversations I’m not apart of is the only thing that keeps me stretching, and thus, an acceptable member of society, by everyone else’s stupid definition. Not only does this keep my mind off of the horrendous task at hand which I am most certainly doing wrong, but I learn something once in a while. Once, I learned the secret to moist cupcakes. I learned the tricks to DIY porch-building from two brawny guys from the South. The key to a good porch? Build it on consolidated ground. Who would’ve thought. I once learned why Diane is, like, totally over her jerk ex-boyfriend Steven omg. For what it’s worth, Diane has control issues and Steven had it coming. And today I learned that the robbery and burglary rates have gone up in DC in general, but especially in Eastern DC. This is both interesting and applicable to me considering my  new project of which I am currently working out the kinks. The women discussing it seemed really distraught, as if a close one had been robbed or burglarized, and I have to say it’s different hearing about a robbery via the news or some statistics report rather than from the mouths and faces of the friends of a victim. Maybe the economy is motivating this surge in crime – and dare I say, desperation? – or maybe the mushrooming is circumstantial and it simply works in waves. In any case, I find it worth looking into. In the meantime, you can find me miserable, red-faced, and eavesdropping by the Lincoln Memorial on any given night, stretching but not knowing why I’m doing it or how to do it correctly. I have also photo-bombed dozens of pictures of the lovely tourists by now – look for me! I’m the miserable blob in an oversized t-shirt and leggings who hates stretching.