It’s that time of year again, when the undead start rising from the graves. It starts a few weeks before Halloween, and goes strong until New Year’s Day.

The time of year between Halloween and New Years’ when wackos appear out of the woodwork to ruin the holidays for all of us by suggesting that the most enjoyable thing in the world is to run a 5k on a day symbolically slated for gastronomical gluttony, laziness, sports and parades.

The Zombie Dash. The Turkey Trot. The Santa Sprint. The New Year’s Day Pimp My Stride. What’s even worse than 5k runners is when they band together into teams and name themselves something really ridiculous.

Between a Walk and a Hard Pace.

Run Fasta, Eat Pasta.

Blister Sisters.

Scrambled Legs.

Then we all have to listen to them justify what they eat and drink for the day, as if the rest of us, those who just like to soak up the slow-moving qualities of the holidays with a hot toddy and a silly parade, don’t deserve to eat. Because we didn’t run that morning.

SPARE US. I go to the gym six days a week, and I am NOT working out on Thanksgiving, Christmas or New Year’s Day, no matter how sanctimonious you make yourself out to be. And repeat after me: NO ONE CARES. Follow the old credo that says unless you have a funny story about falling and smacking your head on the treadmill, no one cares about the details of your workout.

So without further ado, here is:

Twenty Things I Would Rather Do Than Run a 5K on a Holiday

Listen to Adele talk about her divorce.

Watch the Rachel Maddow show.

Wear skinny jeans on the couch to relax.

Sit next to someone eating tuna on a plane.

Let OJ Simpson show me his knife collection.

Listen to liberal sputum.

Go shopping on Black Friday.

Go to Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s on a Sunday.

Eat kale chips.  

Care about Facebook posts (as in, I don’t give a shit)

Listen to the excruciating patter of Peloton coaches.

Cast a vote for Hillary Clinton.

Brush my teeth with a rock.

Agree to listen to a pyramid scheme.

Watch a “Twilight” movie.

Read an Elin Hildebrand novel.

Go out to dinner with the cast of “The View.”

Eat frozen lettuce.

Shave my legs with a dull razor.

Listen to Adele at all.