As I watched the progress of the runners at the LA marathon yesterday, I compared them to my own anti-sex marathon. For those of you who are not privy to what’s going on, I will recap first.
The anti-sex vow
A week and a half ago, I announced via Twitter I am taking a 2-week vow of celibacy. This was not a vow I was planning on keeping.
Okay, let me explain for those out there who are laughing at me because their dry spell has been going on for months…or years *gulp*. #1: I am a female in Los Angeles. If I want to have sex, I have sex. #2: I am pretty slutty. Therefore, if I meet you and I like you (even though there are A LOT of things that annoy me about people in general, repeat after me: discriminating slut), I will most likely have sex with you even if I don’t want a relationship with you. So, 2 weeks is a long time not to have sex…for me.
The marathon vs. my challenge
Days 1-3: I started strong. Just like that first burst of runner energy, I was determined and nothing was going to get in my way. This was going to be a piece of cake.
Day 4/5: The runners get their first dip in energy with the first obstacle like a large hill. My hill was my booty call. He wanted me to come over, and I really wanted to go. Like I mentioned previously, I never intended to keep this vow, so I thought, why not? I want to go, so I will. But…something was stopping me. Self respect you ask? Not likely. More likely it my competitive side. I told him no. Seriously, first time ever. He is a drug to me.
Day 6/7: I was proud of myself for getting through the obstacle, and gained more determination to push through. However…like a runner gets tired, I was horny.
Days 8-10: I decide to distract myself because I am now losing steam. The runners at this point of the marathon are most likely using mental distractions from their pain. They focus on moving forward, but think about their plans for afterwards…or what makes them angry enough to continue, or motivated, or inspired. Or they position their friends and family at this point of the race to yell at them. I didn’t have any cheerleaders so I started going to yoga every day to exhaust my body so much I don’t even want to think about sex.
Day 11/12: This is where I am today. This is when the runners start to lose focus and motivation. They are gasping for air, and just need to stop running. For me, I need to have sex. Distractions are not working any more. Yes, I am still physically exhausted, but now I am having erotic dreams about everyone. I have to hide my phone from myself so I don’t call my BC.
However, I know that if I can get over this last obstacle, I will be able to make it to the finish line with a sense of accomplishment. Okay, maybe not accomplishment like running the LA marathon, but I’ll at least know I have the power to hold back my libido without chaining a chastity belt around it.
Now that I’m thinking about sex again, am I going to text my booty call right now? You bet ‘ya.
Someone want to be my finish line cheerleader?? Or finish line fuck?