I’m getting ready to run my second half marathon in a little over a week, and I was sent this article by actor/comedian Jay Mohr (JerryMcGuire, Suicide Kings). He recently was in movie with Keanu Reeves and Forrest Whittaker “The Nightwatchman” and he put on a TON of weight for the role. Now he’s taking it off.
If you HATE running, click to see the rest of the article.
God, I hate running. When I was in high school I was on the wrestling team. I ran constantly. I spent my early mornings jogging. We would jog as a team for a half hour before practice everyday. After dinner each night I would bust out a quick 2 mile run to Bloomfield avenue and back. After I finished highschool and it was apparent there was no career for me as a 135 pound wrestler, I decided i would never make myself run again. I was wrong. I recently finished a movie with Keanu Reeves and Forrest Whittaker called “THE NIGHTWATCHMAN”. I play detective Mike Clady in the movie and my character is written as a muscular, imposing guy. I am neither. The director asked me if I thought I could gain some weight for the movie…I assured him that for the opportunity to work with The Last King of Scotland, I would get yoked. I got a trainer, I ate five meals a day. I had a protien shake before each of my 5 meals a day. I worked out constantly. I gained 22 pounds in 10 weeks.I was an animal on the incline press and to put it mildly, I was pretty large. The filming went well and I was thrilled to work with everyone. Then, the filming was over and I forgot to keep working out. I just stopped cold. Bad idea. Since the wrap of the movie in September I have gained an additional 10 pounds. This time, the weight isn’t in my chest, shoulders and arms. It is all in my belly and sides. I am approaching 40, I havent had a drink in 14 years and I have a beer gut.
So now I have to run. AAAAAAHHHH! When I was younger, I always hated running but at least on Wednesdays and Saturdays I had a guy across the mat from me trying to kill me. That is pretty motivating when you get a stitch in your side while running through town.
Now I must run purely for vanity’s sake. It blows. I run with my iPod and sometimes I run without it. I run alone and sometimes I run with a partner. As Bill Murray chanted in the movie Meatballs, “It..just..doesn’t..matter!”. No matter what mental tricks I play on myself, running is the worst possible thing I can think of to do. Nothing ever happens. I am never getting chased. There is no weigh in at the end of the day with the eyes of an agitated coach staring at the scale.There is no third period. It is just me and the stupid, never ending road. So far I have lost 4 freaking pounds. The bottle of Perrier in front of me weighs more than that.
It’s bizzare, when I run I notice mostly other runners. I hate them. They just jog around and it always looks so effortless to them. I can barely breath and these middle aged housewives are running and pushing strollers and TALKING TO EACH OTHER!
The pushing strollers thing really amazes me. You have to really love a child to push him around at 4 mph for three miles. I can barely lug my own rear end around a reservoir for 35 minutes. I tell my son to bring his bike and we pass each other a few times. He tries to explain some amazing thing that happened to him while we were on opposite ends of the circle but I have to wave him off. I am almost finished and Janes Addiction just started playing on my Ipod shuffle. “I hope he isnt hurt or thirsty” I think to my self as I check my watch for the 6th time. When I run I usually check it each five minutes. On my death bed, I want five minutes to be as long as it is when I run. I would be on that deathbed for a good 8 months.
I always check to see what other joggers are wearing on their feet. I am equipped with the best Reeboks in the universe. They just dont make a better running shoe for me and my crooked feet than my Reeboks. An old guy wearing twenty year old LA Gear sneakers will scoot past me on the running path and I want to trip him. I wonder if he gets a massage twice a week like I do. I see really over weight people running too. None of them seem to be having as hard a time as I am. Was running this hard when I was fifteen? If it was, it’s no wonder the coach had us all run at the same time. Seventeen year old teenage boys can do a lot of goofing off while running three miles. We used to play a game called “tail”. One of the captains would yell your name and you would have to haul ass towards the front of the running procession. Each time you passed someone you got to punch them in the arm as hard as you wanted. I wonder if I would get arrested if I punched the old guy in the LA Gear sneakers. I definitely would get in serious trouble with the cops if I punched a mom jogging with a baby stroller. I would probably get a arrested and do a few months in prison. I would be in a cell for 23 hours a day and for one hour each day I would be allowed out in the yard with the rest of the hardened criminals. THEN I would be happy to run.
Best of lucky,