I felt compelled to share my story, as I have recently seen threads on how high mileage ruins marriages.
Here’s my story in short. I married into a very wealthy family that is all about prestige, being notable, being attractive, etc. Everyone in my wife’s family has that special “star” quality. When she married me, I was always seen by them as not having that, and they would rub it in. They called me “vanilla Tom”.
Fast forward 10 yrs. Our marriage is crumbling, wife treats me like 3rd wheel. I’d been running 50mpw for years, but wasn’t running fast times or look particularly fit. Every year there is a 5k in the rich town her parents have their mansion. Her brothers win every year with low 16’s, her father not far behind in mid 17’s as a 50 yr old. I would always come through in high 18’s. I made a decision after the race two years ago that was the last time I would be beaten by her brothers. I ramped up my mileage. 70 mpw. Then 80. Running twice per day. I started getting faster and my appearance started changing. Muscle cuts were starting to appear in my legs, my ribs, my neck. People started making comments that I was looking really fit. Wife started hearing these comments and almost seemed bothered that I was rising. I loved it.
Annual race weekend came. I was ready. As I watched her brothers do their strides and warm-ups, I knew the next 15 minutes were going to change things. Gun goes off. They stride out like the pricks they are. They look to their right at the mile 1 marker by the old mansion on Ocean avenue. To their surprise, I’m there. I give a smile. We turn the corner towards the lake. I see their Aunt Mona on the side of the room in her normal spectator spot by the Sotherby’s. I lock eyes with her and speed up ahead of them just to get a rise out of her. I do it for a quick 5 seconds and then pull back and they catch up. We’re running 15 high pace and that’s the best I can hold. We run past the lake, then past the old Essex house. I can feel them starting to panic. We’re into the last mile. I start thinking about the past. How they treated me, how I was nothong more than “vanilla Tom” as they would call me. I started to get filled up with adrenaline. We turn the corner to the last 400 on the main drag on Ocean Ave. I look to the left, smile, and say, “Hey Guys. It’s been fun. Gotta go now”. I stride out and quickly gap them. The crowds start to cheer. I’m waving and feeling like the top man. I see the finishing tape, lean in, and give a roar.
That night, my wife initiates sex for the first time in our relationship. Suddenly I was hot. And guess what, since that day, none of them have ever uttered the words “vanilla Tom” again.
So that’s a story I felt I need to share in comparison to the others I see posted . And yes, I still run 100mpw to this very day. Thanks for letting me share my story.
True story? IF not you have a gift for fiction writing. Thank you!
I felt compelled to share my story, as I have recently seen threads on how high mileage ruins marriages.
Here’s my story in short. I married into a very wealthy family that is all about prestige, being notable, being attractive, etc. Everyone in my wife’s family has that special “star” quality. When she married me, I was always seen by them as not having that, and they would rub it in. They called me “vanilla Tom”.
Fast forward 10 yrs. Our marriage is crumbling, wife treats me like 3rd wheel. I’d been running 50mpw for years, but wasn’t running fast times or look particularly fit. Every year there is a 5k in the rich town her parents have their mansion. Her brothers win every year with low 16’s, her father not far behind in mid 17’s as a 50 yr old. I would always come through in high 18’s. I made a decision after the race two years ago that was the last time I would be beaten by her brothers. I ramped up my mileage. 70 mpw. Then 80. Running twice per day. I started getting faster and my appearance started changing. Muscle cuts were starting to appear in my legs, my ribs, my neck. People started making comments that I was looking really fit. Wife started hearing these comments and almost seemed bothered that I was rising. I loved it.
Annual race weekend came. I was ready. As I watched her brothers do their strides and warm-ups, I knew the next 15 minutes were going to change things. Gun goes off. They stride out like the pricks they are. They look to their right at the mile 1 marker by the old mansion on Ocean avenue. To their surprise, I’m there. I give a smile. We turn the corner towards the lake. I see their Aunt Mona on the side of the room in her normal spectator spot by the Sotherby’s. I lock eyes with her and speed up ahead of them just to get a rise out of her. I do it for a quick 5 seconds and then pull back and they catch up. We’re running 15 high pace and that’s the best I can hold. We run past the lake, then past the old Essex house. I can feel them starting to panic. We’re into the last mile. I start thinking about the past. How they treated me, how I was nothong more than “vanilla Tom” as they would call me. I started to get filled up with adrenaline. We turn the corner to the last 400 on the main drag on Ocean Ave. I look to the left, smile, and say, “Hey Guys. It’s been fun. Gotta go now”. I stride out and quickly gap them. The crowds start to cheer. I’m waving and feeling like the top man. I see the finishing tape, lean in, and give a roar.
That night, my wife initiates sex for the first time in our relationship. Suddenly I was hot. And guess what, since that day, none of them have ever uttered the words “vanilla Tom” again.
So that’s a story I felt I need to share in comparison to the others I see posted . And yes, I still run 100mpw to this very day. Thanks for letting me share my story.
Damn, you new trolls are putting in an extra effort these days. 7/10 for the creativity and not coming off as too desperate for responses. My advice - save your narrative in a file.
This was a great read. Lots of archetypes in this story. The hero’s journey. Love the evil, hot wire who resents you at first for getting better, but ultimately succumbs and becomes attracted to you again. The brojos should do a documentary on this. Interview you, the brothers, the wife, etc. If you’re wife is actually hot this could be a big doc.
Rojo should read the vanilla Tom story as a monologue for the intro of the next Tuesday podcast. Would be so beautiful to hear this legendary story read coming out of Rojo. His emotional delivery paired with the writing could be something very special indeed.
I felt compelled to share my story, as I have recently seen threads on how high mileage ruins marriages.
Here’s my story in short. I married into a very wealthy family that is all about prestige, being notable, being attractive, etc. Everyone in my wife’s family has that special “star” quality. When she married me, I was always seen by them as not having that, and they would rub it in. They called me “vanilla Tom”.
Fast forward 10 yrs. Our marriage is crumbling, wife treats me like 3rd wheel. I’d been running 50mpw for years, but wasn’t running fast times or look particularly fit. Every year there is a 5k in the rich town her parents have their mansion. Her brothers win every year with low 16’s, her father not far behind in mid 17’s as a 50 yr old. I would always come through in high 18’s. I made a decision after the race two years ago that was the last time I would be beaten by her brothers. I ramped up my mileage. 70 mpw. Then 80. Running twice per day. I started getting faster and my appearance started changing. Muscle cuts were starting to appear in my legs, my ribs, my neck. People started making comments that I was looking really fit. Wife started hearing these comments and almost seemed bothered that I was rising. I loved it.
Annual race weekend came. I was ready. As I watched her brothers do their strides and warm-ups, I knew the next 15 minutes were going to change things. Gun goes off. They stride out like the pricks they are. They look to their right at the mile 1 marker by the old mansion on Ocean avenue. To their surprise, I’m there. I give a smile. We turn the corner towards the lake. I see their Aunt Mona on the side of the room in her normal spectator spot by the Sotherby’s. I lock eyes with her and speed up ahead of them just to get a rise out of her. I do it for a quick 5 seconds and then pull back and they catch up. We’re running 15 high pace and that’s the best I can hold. We run past the lake, then past the old Essex house. I can feel them starting to panic. We’re into the last mile. I start thinking about the past. How they treated me, how I was nothong more than “vanilla Tom” as they would call me. I started to get filled up with adrenaline. We turn the corner to the last 400 on the main drag on Ocean Ave. I look to the left, smile, and say, “Hey Guys. It’s been fun. Gotta go now”. I stride out and quickly gap them. The crowds start to cheer. I’m waving and feeling like the top man. I see the finishing tape, lean in, and give a roar.
That night, my wife initiates sex for the first time in our relationship. Suddenly I was hot. And guess what, since that day, none of them have ever uttered the words “vanilla Tom” again.
So that’s a story I felt I need to share in comparison to the others I see posted . And yes, I still run 100mpw to this very day. Thanks for letting me share my story.
Nice story and funny responses.
One plot hole /not logical part of the story- this was a super Elite, super attractive, super rich family and wife ....why on Earth did she marry you if you were not respected by anyone in the family and considered "vanilla Tom"?
An ultimately it's good satire because only hardcore Runners might dream/try to convince themselves that running 100 miles per week and winning a local 5K would bring lasting prestige in such a community as the one your story takes place in.
I felt compelled to share my story, as I have recently seen threads on how high mileage ruins marriages.
Here’s my story in short. I married into a very wealthy family that is all about prestige, being notable, being attractive, etc. Everyone in my wife’s family has that special “star” quality. When she married me, I was always seen by them as not having that, and they would rub it in. They called me “vanilla Tom”.
Fast forward 10 yrs. Our marriage is crumbling, wife treats me like 3rd wheel. I’d been running 50mpw for years, but wasn’t running fast times or look particularly fit. Every year there is a 5k in the rich town her parents have their mansion. Her brothers win every year with low 16’s, her father not far behind in mid 17’s as a 50 yr old. I would always come through in high 18’s. I made a decision after the race two years ago that was the last time I would be beaten by her brothers. I ramped up my mileage. 70 mpw. Then 80. Running twice per day. I started getting faster and my appearance started changing. Muscle cuts were starting to appear in my legs, my ribs, my neck. People started making comments that I was looking really fit. Wife started hearing these comments and almost seemed bothered that I was rising. I loved it.
Annual race weekend came. I was ready. As I watched her brothers do their strides and warm-ups, I knew the next 15 minutes were going to change things. Gun goes off. They stride out like the pricks they are. They look to their right at the mile 1 marker by the old mansion on Ocean avenue. To their surprise, I’m there. I give a smile. We turn the corner towards the lake. I see their Aunt Mona on the side of the room in her normal spectator spot by the Sotherby’s. I lock eyes with her and speed up ahead of them just to get a rise out of her. I do it for a quick 5 seconds and then pull back and they catch up. We’re running 15 high pace and that’s the best I can hold. We run past the lake, then past the old Essex house. I can feel them starting to panic. We’re into the last mile. I start thinking about the past. How they treated me, how I was nothong more than “vanilla Tom” as they would call me. I started to get filled up with adrenaline. We turn the corner to the last 400 on the main drag on Ocean Ave. I look to the left, smile, and say, “Hey Guys. It’s been fun. Gotta go now”. I stride out and quickly gap them. The crowds start to cheer. I’m waving and feeling like the top man. I see the finishing tape, lean in, and give a roar.
That night, my wife initiates sex for the first time in our relationship. Suddenly I was hot. And guess what, since that day, none of them have ever uttered the words “vanilla Tom” again.
So that’s a story I felt I need to share in comparison to the others I see posted . And yes, I still run 100mpw to this very day. Thanks for letting me share my story.
Nice story and funny responses.
One plot hole /not logical part of the story- this was a super Elite, super attractive, super rich family and wife ....why on Earth did she marry you if you were not respected by anyone in the family and considered "vanilla Tom"?
An ultimately it's good satire because only hardcore Runners might dream/try to convince themselves that running 100 miles per week and winning a local 5K would bring lasting prestige in such a community as the one your story takes place in.
Vanilla Tom ends up besting elitist wife's brothers and father - Succession.
OK so not a true story but it is a real race. I run in a huge (not 5K) race every year that starts and ends just as described, including the mansions. Several thousand runners and the winner is rarely (if ever?) from the town.
One plot hole /not logical part of the story- this was a super Elite, super attractive, super rich family and wife ....why on Earth did she marry you if you were not respected by anyone in the family and considered "vanilla Tom"?
An ultimately it's good satire because only hardcore Runners might dream/try to convince themselves that running 100 miles per week and winning a local 5K would bring lasting prestige in such a community as the one your story takes place in.
His wife is banging her brothers. She married Tom cos she needed cover and he's a bit dim
Help us build the best running shoe review site for a chance to win a LetsRun t-shirt.Help us build the best running shoe review site for a chance to win one of 10 LetsRun t-shirts.