This is the “How Do You Like Me Now, Moose!?” face.
We’ve lately been confounded by Ryan Reynolds. Why is he so popular? We liked Just Friends and everything but how on earth did he get to marry Scarlett Johansson? But today Reynolds wrote an essay on the Huffington Post, and we were pleasantly surprised to find that — unlike many of HuffPo’s celebrity contributions — it’s actually touching and lovely and hilarious. Apparently, during an interaction with Michael J. Fox, Reynolds found himself offering to compete in the New York marathon on behalf of Parkinson’s disease, a disease his father also has. “Which was, well … dumb,” he explains, since he is not at all a runner and had not long ago watched the marathon and found it “horrifying.”
I saw guys coming in to finish with bleeding nipples. Why in the hell were their nipples bleeding? People were crying. People were limping, hobbling, screaming, crawling. But most importantly, people were experiencing a sublime rapture that I couldn’t even hope to understand. They were touching something magical no stalk-still mortal simply watching the race could comprehend. These people had accomplished something real. At that moment, with all the energy, inspiration and passion swirling through the crisp autumnal air, I breathed in deeply and decided something: I’d never fucking do that ever, ever. What in the fuck were these idiots thinking? Bleeding nipples. Bleeding. Nipples.
We totally get what Scarlett sees in him now. He’s like Woody Allen, only hot.
Why I’m Running the New York City Marathon [HuffPo]
