A forum on which I fritter away huge amounts of time today boasts an open-letter thread. I impulsively spit out the following without knowing the subject was even on my mind.
Dear everyone who sends me mail through our coaching site who is “not needing coaching or a consult but just has a few questions”:
So you want me to spend an afternoon reviewing your training plan out of the kindness of my heart, or because you’re somehow special. Apparently my time and expertise are less valuable than yours. Let me ask you something. Let’s say you’re a shopkeeper, and I walk into the store with a case of the munchies. If I say, “I’m not really up for a shopping trip, I just need a quick snack,” and pocket a few bags of chips and a six-pack of Sprite, would you be okay with me walking out of the store without paying? Oh, you don’t say? Well, if you think there’s a material difference, I do have some advice for you after all: Find the nearest exposed phallus, take a deep breath, jam that bloated organ as far into your face as it’ll go, and go to work. This may not help your running, but it’ll make you far more useful than you’ve proven in our brief but glorious spate of electronic discourse.
Maybe I should add this to the coaching site itself. I doubt it would make any difference, and it’s not like this is a big problem anyway, more of a peeve that someone manages to reignite every couple of months or so.