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Sometimes I wonder why I even have a blog. I mean, what is the point? All I do is write about some workout I did, or some useless drivel about some random thought that entered my head, or a simple copy and paste from a wacky article I read, or my opinion on some sport.

What kind of loser actually sits down and writes all of this stuff out and posts it on the internet for the world to see? What kind of idiot takes a photo of his sleeping dog and posts it. A photo or a pizza he proudly baked and ate? Seriously. I’m quite pathetic.

That was my thought in the shower this morning, and unlike the many other fantastic topics I think up but never write about, this time I’m taking a few minutes off the start of my work day to pop down the thoughts.

Because this time, the thoughts are important enough. I mean, there isn’t much better than self-deprecation, is there!?

I sit here and write about pretty much just plain old garbage. There isn’t anything important about the content delivered in this blog. There isn’t anything earth-shattering. There isn’t anything that will have me as a writer, or you as a reader walking away any smarter than you were before we decided to take the journey to this location. What southern location are we even talking about? Hell, I have no idea.
After all, some readers probably think the name “just south of the dot” actually means something. Truth is, I was sitting at La Feria on South Lamar enjoying frozen margarita swirls, queso and chicken nachos one rainy Saturday afternoon(or maybe it was a Sunday?) with some friends, and I was tired of the name of my blog. (I don’t even remember what it was called anymore). So I said I wanted a new blog name. Some people played along and offered some ideas, or listened to my “run” or “life” related names, but eventually everyone went on to other useless conversations, while Erin and I continued on searching for the perfect name. Probably because she was sitting next to me, or I went and sat next to her after a bathroom break?? Anyway, she was willing to play along, and so play we did. I quickly decided I didn’t want a name that directly meant something, but instead, something out of left field. Heck, even “something out of left field” would have been a good idea, but that left field thing is/was too mainstream. Empty glasses were replaced by overflowing, swirly, brain freezing goodness, and the ideas got sillier and sillier.

Eventually I think I blurted out, what about South of the dot, to which she replied, what dot?, to which I said, I don’t know, my dot, your dot, that dot, any dot. Why south of the dot, and not north? Because south sounds better than north. Wait, Just south of the dot, is even better. And so was born a completely meaningless name. Heck, I don’t even know if that was the actual way the conversation went, but I do remember we both thought up some ridiculous stuff, and this one was the one that won out. (probably because I came up with it, and I’m too self centered to use someone else’s idea, when all I’m doing is pretty much just using others as a sounding board. Boy am I bad at that.)

So back to why blogs. I truly don’t know. Personally, I read many people’s blogs, but truth be told, I don’t read all posts. Lately, I’ve taken to simply skimming the posts, because they often don’t have the claws required to keep my attention. I love race reports and hard work out descriptions because they inspire me. I like opinions, and love commenting back with my opinion but don’t like reviews. If you’re reviewing something that doesn’t directly touch me in some way, I didn’t read that post. I like posts with photos. In this day of technology, if you can’t post a photo within every 3 or 4 stories, you’re wasting my time. Do you really think it’s interesting to continuously just read, and not get some different sensory stimulation?? I like wacky stuff people write, and I like great writers who describe the feelings they get over long hours of training. But when it’s about what I did this weekend, AND doesn’t have a photo, you’ve pretty much lost me at ”This weekend…”. And then there are the ones I truly can’t stand, but for fear of hurting someone’s feelings (which I probably already did, or am doing by simply writing this sentence!) I won’t tell you what I just can’t stand. Then again, it’s the ones I just can’t stand that get my heart rate up, so maybe those are the best ones!? Then there’s Deen Carnazzzes blog on Runner’s World. I can’t stand the guy, yet I subscribe to his blog just so I can read the first 3 words, or see that he has a new post, and just call him some loser name! (yes, his last name is purposely misspelled so dean lovers don’t invade my blog with a google search and heckle me)

(I’m struggling with how to tie this back to my original topic, so I’ll use the weak but effective two words I usually use) So anyway, why do I even waste my time writing on this thing? Are 70 to 90+ people really that interested in hearing/reading about my life everyday!? I guess they are, because there are supporting stats for that number. But why? If I can’t even figure out why on earth I have an open book available for people to read about the crap, and yes, it truly is pretty useless crap I do and then write about.

And I’m not even going to begin an attempt at figuring out why people just spent a few minutes reading this post, or the post that will follow!