Five Ways You Can Repay Me For Watching You Run The Marathon

iStock_000018470369_Large

To my friends who ran the marathon—you know who you are; actually, everyone knows who you are thanks to the Mylar blanket you wore long after you were warm again—I’d like to say, “Congratulations!” Not that I need to say it again since I screamed it at you from the sidewalk throughout the marathon, but it bears repeating. I’m so proud of you for having accomplished your self-imposed goal.

But now that your big day is over, here are some ways you can repay me for supporting you:

Clean Out My Gmail. My Gmail is at 47 percent of 15GB used. It’s stressing me out, but not enough to actually do anything about it. This is where you come in. Please spend next Sunday getting my inbox down to a respectable 10 percent of 15GB used. Some guidelines: DELETE any e-mail that will tempt me to spend money (J.Crew sales announcements, yoga studio newsletters) as well as any e-mails that are no longer relevant (J.Crew sales announcements for size 2 pants, yoga studio newsletters). KEEP any e-mail where someone compliments me and anything that suggests that I’m young/thin/crude but in a cool and/or employable way.

Cheer Me On While I Binge-Watch The Blacklist. Remember how I stood cheering you on for six hours in the cold while you got to keep warm by running? It would be awesome if you would stand outside my living room window and yell supportive things at me as I blow through the rest of Season One of The Blacklist. I know that standing outside sounds cold, but if you were actually in my living room, I’d have a hard time hearing the television. (And you’re no James Spader!) Oh, and please be on your toes (whether or not the nails have grown back) because at any second I might run to the window, open it and yell, “SNACKS! SNACKS!” or “SOMEONE TAKE THIS SHIRT!!!” (I sweat when Red is in a tense situation). A homemade sign would be great, too.

Pay Me To Clean My Bathroom. I’ve decided to take the plunge and clean my bathroom top-to-bottom. This is something that I’ve always wanted to do, and I’ve decided that this is the year I’m going to do it. Can you believe it? Me making an arbitrary decision and then roping my loved ones into caring? I got a new pair of sneakers to motivate me, and I’m following a plan that I found on the internet about how to make sure you finish cleaning your whole bathroom in under six hours. But I can’t do this alone. If you pledge $1,000 to my personal bank account, I think I can get it done. Did I mention that this is a lifelong dream of mine and also St. Jude’s? Isn’t this so amazing of me? Thank you! St. Jude’s!

Come To A Bar And Stand In The Corner While I Get All the Attention. I was super inspired by your fun after-marathon party where everyone who ran the marathon discussed how they were feeling at every mile and how beautiful Harlem is when you’re surrounded by a pack of self-involved white people. It was so inspiring that I thought you could come to a bar with me this weekend and be my wingman. It’ll be the same thing, except this time we’ll all be discussing how I felt during my marathon of Facebook-stalking everyone I’ve ever dated. We’ll cover things like what my snack of choice was (dry handfuls of Reese’s Puff cereal), how long it took (14 hours) and the point at which I thought my legs were going to collapse under me (when I discovered the online wedding album where my college sweetheart took the picture in the fountain we had always discussed taking at our wedding). Thanks in advance for holding my coat!

Watch Me Exercise While You Don’t. When you ran the marathon, all I could think about was “I could be working out right now.” But, of course, I couldn’t. Because I was supporting you in your working out. So this time I thought maybe you could stand idly by while I did Pilates in my room? Then we’re even from last weekend. Not that friendship is about competition. Competition is about competition. And last competition you entered you came in, like, 30,649th place, right?