Stellai’s blog June 2016

Body: 

Blogging About Jogging

 

Click on the image above for full size and the gallery

 

A couple of weeks ago I came across a completely new phenomenon: Jogging. Ok, some of you may have heard of it before. Some may even practise it. And one or two of you may even be jogging addicts. Then let me put it this way: It was new for me, ok! Jeeeh, I am still at the beginning of this blog and you are already getting on my nerves. If you are raising eyebrows, then I suggest that you go and read something else. Shooo!   

For those who still want to know what I have to tell I will continue my story. For me it was the first time that I became aware of the existence of jogging. It happened during our annual family reunion camping weekend. Several of my elderly giant family members, being gigantic both in length and width flocked together, making plans to go jogging. Jogging... is a kind of running in flashy tight-fitting clothes that make your curves look twice their real size. Are you skinny? In a jogging outfit you will look like a god. Do you have a bit of an ass? In jogging outfit your ass will look so huge that it is to die for. Do you have a little tummy? Then jogging in a jogging outfit will make it look as if your soft and sexy bodymass is waving behind you, trying to keep up with you, while wobbling, jumping and rocking in opposite rithm of your running.

Sure I had noticed dolls running in these flashy outfits before. I see them often when we go home from work, but never did pay much attention to them. Partly because I presumed that they did not know how to ride a bicycle to get home and partly because the idea of running for fun not even once had crossed my mind. For me running is a kind of necessity. Not being designed with legs of the size of tree trunks like the majority of my family, who are MB dolls,  I have to run quite lot to keep up with them.

Because it was a family reunion and I had never met before the elderly uncle and aunt MB doll part of our family that flock together to go jogging (my family appears to be a lot bigger than I thought, both in numbers and in size) I asked if it was ok if I would join them. Much to my surprise it became a debate between me and the joggerflockers in which it was suggested that I could slow down the group during the running because of my size, lack of training, lack of endurance and of course my lack of having no jogging outfit. I was about to give up when Koen passed us on his way to our tent and plead for me, suggesting that if necessary one of them could carry me on the way back. Now I always try avoid to be carried, because it makes me look feeble and helpless. But in order to end the debate I decided to comply.

Jogging. I had figured it would be a kind of fast shifting social gathering with nice opportunities to have various chats on the way.  But already after the first kilometer the group went completely silent. Was it at first that my giant family members constantly asked me if I could manage to keep up and if they needed to carry me, after some time I started to wonder if it should be me offering help to them.

When we came close to the fifth kilometer, all of my giant family members were huffing and puffing and stumbling and leaking bodyfluid on so many places that I began to fear for giant bodyparts to start falling off. And with a shock I realized that I had not brought my bottle of superglue with me. I am aware that MB dolls have auto-repair in their skin, but while watching my giant familymembers turning into a group of zombie dolls I realized that there would be limits to this auto-repair mechanism.

It was pretty much at this point that we stopped running.

I had thought that we now all would sit down and have a nice chat. But what happened was that all of my elderly giant family members, who till now I only had seen acting like well behaved MB dolls, suddenly started bending their bodies, sticking out their limbs, waving arms and legs, twisting, turning and jumping and making all kind of completely illogical movements. For a minute I thought that they had gone completely bananas. But it appeared that this was an important phase in the jogging sequence. They called it stretching and told me to do the same, otherwise I would risk to get terrible pain, feeling like needles sticking in my limbs. Now I have quite some experience with needles and pins sticking in my limbs. We use a lot of pins in our workshop and because it is handy to keep them nearby, I normally stick a handful up front in one of my arms. I must say that I do not recall to have ever felt anything even close to pain when doing so, but the idea of getting terrible pain of course is not very appealing. So even though I still fail to see the relation between running, pins and terrible pain, I decided to join the group in going crazy by waving my hands in the air, making funny jumps and doing some cool moves like a handstand and a couple of saltos. Especially my backward double axle salto jumps were surprisingly well received, though nobody followed my lead.

After some time it was suggested that we would go jogging back to the camp. The making-crazy-movements break indeed had proven to be effective. No limbs had fallen off and even though most of the elderly still looked like a bunch of goat dolls that had spend too much time on a hot tin roof, they looked a lot beter than before the buffoon break.

It may have been my suggestion to use the shoe laces to connect their wrists to their jogging pants, so in case an arm would fall off while we were jogging back to the camping, we would not be forced to stop and fix it.  It may also have been my salto jumps, who knows, but despite the fact that I did not wear a jogging outfit I was asked to take the lead for the way back. I felt so much honored!

The rule is that the way back is always faster than the way up and knowing that the legs of my family members were about six times longer than mine, I decided to really go for it. In a contest that I did with Rosy some time ago Koen had calculated that my top speed was  38,5 km per hour, which he said was close to the top speed of Joppie, the cat of our neighbours. So, I thought: let's try to make it 40.

It turned out to be a bit of a mistake.

Ok, I should have looked over my shoulder, then I would indeed have noticed that the group had fallen behind. But hey, how was I to know that I had to wait for the signal. I am pretty certain that on the way up there also had been no signal.



Anyway, it was about half an hour later than after I had arrived on the campingsite, I had just given up instructing Hand how to play football, when the joggerflockers came in sight. At first I honestly did not recognize hem, looking like a bunch of crazy buffalo dolls that had been chased for days,  totally exhausted, a complete mess with mud upto their ears. It turned out that when they had lost track of me one of them had suggested that I had probably taken a short cut (something I would never do by the way, for that would be incredibly unsportsmanlike) and they had tried to follow my lead in that.

The result had been devastating. The group was a total mess. Every single of them looked even more aweful then before our buffoon break. I noticed that two of them indeed had removed the laces of their shoes, though they had not tied their hands to their pants as I had suggested. Fortunately everybody still seemed to be in one piece. Some had scratches, but no bodyparts were missing. The only thing noticeable was their even more excessive leaking,  huffing and puffing. To the reason for this I still have to guess. It may be some kind ritual group bonding for joggerflockers.

As for the spirit of the joggerflockers it was surprisingly high up. The guilt that I felt for not having properly been leading them back to our camp was loud and generously dismissed. And I was invited to join again the buffoon dance, which I did of course.  That is what I like about this family. You can make a mistake, but they will always forgive you. They even applauded again for my salto jumps.

Hey Koen, Why don't you jog? I know that you don't like to run, and indeed the running part is a bit boring, but we can skip that if you like. We can just do the huffing, puffing and the stretch-buffoonery. It is fun!

Just think about it, will you?

 xoxo

Stellai

 

Stellai

P.S.

If you have missed my previous report, then you can use this link to see it:

/drupal/node/2266 

(Stellai’s blog April 2016: Stellai helps you out)  

Blog Category: 
Doll Type: 
Content: 

Comments

Stellai you have a unique jogging companion!smiley Your action pictures are great just don't lose the top!devil

I totally agree on your stance toward the mystifying tomfoolery that is jogging. At least with your game of football with Hand there is a point to your running.cheeky

Hi stellai, what a great story. Now imagine how I looked like when I ran a marathon, years ago. Brigitte will tell you that I wasn´t a pretty sight. But you and had are. Graet pics, Koen! Chris