Kevin Refuses to Go Down on Wife During Marathon Training

Kevin Mitchell’s fall marathon training sure is intense, but it’s not nearly as rigorous as his daily regimen of alienating everybody he knows.

Sincerely believing qualifying for the Boston Marathon will change his life, Kevin refuses to let anything get in the way of achieving his fever dream….even if it ends in a nightmare divorce from wife Brittany and losing custody of his two daughters, Amelia, 6, and June, 4. He never asked to be a “girl dad,” anyway.

Marathon training is a grueling endeavor, an arduous undertaking that demands a dedication of time and energy like no other. And no one plays the part better than Kevin.

Commitment to excellence

Kevin would be the first to tell you he’s a recluse during training; only, he won’t speak to you, or anyone. He rarely leaves the house during the 18-week training window, for fear of suffering a devastating injury grocery shopping or, God forbid, ever dropping the girls off at school. All travel, even to visit family or friends, is out of the question, and Kevin certainly won’t take any questions, or answer to anyone.

His cushy work-from-home job affords him the luxury of lounging on the couch cushions, catching decades-old reruns of Law and Order while missing deadlines and ignoring email after Slack message after phone call from colleagues.

Under the deeply misguided belief he can’t burn any calories outside running, Kevin does virtually nothing else. Forget strength training. No walks with Nala the Corgi, no quality time—or any time—with his daughters, and absolutely no cooking, cleaning, yard work, and zero chance of him going down on sexually-frustrated Brittany.

He’s only got so much energy to give, and he ran out of fucks to give around training week four — literally. During training, he refrains from sex with Brittany, zealously masturbating twice a day instead. (Less work required.) Frankly, he’s so focused on tomorrow’s speed workout, he couldn’t pleasure her even if he wanted to (he doesn’t want to).

Between abstinence and hardly ever speaking to Brittany or the girls, Kevin might as well be a monk. When he does open his crusty, aggressively dehydrated mouth, it’s to bark orders from the couch, amid Law and Order “dun-dun” sounds. “Let the damn dog out!” “Give me a rubdown, damnit!” “Make me a goddamn sandwich!”

Two sides

Blame his angry outbursts on a lethal cocktail of perpetual exhaustion and severe malnourishment. Kevin has no idea he’s aggressively overtraining: taking easy runs way too hard, miscalculating speed workout paces by 21.5 seconds faster on average, and treating each and every long run like a race. It doesn’t help he makes it his mission to pass every runner he sees, no matter how far ahead. Consequently, Kevin painfully limps around the house in a half-asleep daze, highly irritable at even the softest noises and slightest inconveniences.

Kevin thinks his body is a temple, but his innards resemble more of a cesspool. Contrary to his popular belief, every day is not cheat day during marathon training. His self-created, immensely flawed diet limits the very nutrients runners need most: carbs, protein, fiber, Vitamin A through K, and iron, among others.

The truth is, he transforms into an entirely different person during marathon training. He’s unrecognizable. Think Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but he’s the wicked Hyde 24/7 for 4-and-a-half-consecutive months.

Outside of training, Kevin is actually quite pleasant: a generous lover, supportive family man, and hardworking colleague who always puts others’ needs before his own. Always. It’s a shame marathon training brings out the worst in him.

Following months improperly training, Kevin has failed to qualify for Boston after taking a DNF at mile 15 due to very mild cramps. (He was wildly off-pace before stopping.) Nevertheless, he’s immediately ready to start training for his spring marathon without taking a much-needed break. Unsurprisingly, he won’t adjust a single component of his training plan.