Dear My Body,
I am very sorry for the way that I treat you. I know that I should not fill you with beer, Buffalo wings, beer, Applebee's Riblets and beer. It's just that those things are so tasty.
I realize that you are very angry at me right now, and that's why it feels like someone has bashed me in the skull with one of those medieval-style maces. I suppose I deserve this.
But the thing is, I only get two days off a week. These weekend days are very valuable to me. I was wondering if perhaps you could make the hurting stop, just this one time. I will take you running if you will let me, and then maybe we can do some other fun things together.
Please stop hurting. Please.