I started this website in 2023, under the impression I’d receive various running influencer tax write-offs. Instead, I learned I owe thousands in taxes this year. Turns out, my blog does nothing for my bank account. That might have something to do with zero ads on my site and a whopping 69 Instagram followers.
Sure, blogging is not my day job, but I don’t make any money in my day job either, so there’s that. I didn’t even receive my full salary last year—after taxes were taken out, my pay was much lower than what I’m told I make by my boss. This happen to anyone else? Perhaps we hire a lawyer and work together on a class action lawsuit?
But that’s not why I created The Size 15 Runner. It’s not all about the money, ok? Some people are more noble than that. More honorable. More righteou—wait, do I really not get any running influencer tax write-offs? Are you sure? Yes, I know I can deduct certain business expenses—I already did that but I only got like $100 deducted. I still owe thousands. And I certainly didn’t make a profit—I’m considerably in the hole. Isn’t there any kind of compensation for losing money? The government bails out sketchy banks and shady mortgage companies all the time—why can’t they lend a hand to broke citizens that are neither sketchy nor shady?
Well, there’s got to be some running influencer tax write-offs that apply to me. Let’s go through them together and see if I can’t pay a little less in taxes this year.
Buying a home
My wife and I finally bought our first home last year! No more renting! Now our monthly payments will actually go towards something—building equity! We’ve been enjoying homeowning bliss and we’re all ready to receive those tax breaks for purchasing a home. What’s that? We don’t get any money back? Do you even know how much we paid in taxes at closing?!
I thought buying a home was supposed to help with deductions? Somehow, we owe more money this year than a year ago when we were living on the top floor of a shitty duplex with an extremely loud landlord downstairs. We were truly living the American dream. At least we didn’t live on the bottom floor?
Hmm, maybe we should sell our home after just five months and go back to renting. Being a homeowner is too stressful, anyway. Who’s got time to maintain the lawn, paint the garage, or install light fixtures? Certainly not me—that’s why the grass is dead, the garage looks hideous, and every room in the house is pitch-black as soon as the sun starts to set.
Donations
You’re telling me we can’t write off our running shoe purchases? That’s half the reason I bought more than a baker’s dozen pairs last year! Think about it: since we’re so committed to a healthy activity like running, we’re keeping healthcare costs down by not needing to ever visit the doctor. Really? You’re informing me there’s no incentive for regular exercise? No, maintaining good health doesn’t count! That’s just an unintended consequence. It must be something more tangible than that!
Ok, well, I donated my old, worn-down, lifeless pairs to a donation bin in a Walmart parking lot. I get nothing?! Hmm, come to think of it, perhaps I should’ve just recycled them. Wait a minute, there’s no deductions for recycling? Screw it. I’ll throw ‘em away next time.
Pets
Since when is it not permitted to claim pets as deductions? Did they change that recently? I could’ve sworn we used to get some compensation for keeping a live animal in captivity in our home. Hell, people pay way too much to visit caged, depressed animals in a zoo. Dog owners can’t get a few bucks from the government? Hell, my goldendoodle would be the most popular animal in a zoo, anyway. Why do you think I even choose a goldendoodle? I crave attention!
I run with my dog, for crying out loud. She’s just as much a running influencer as me (she’s got far more Instagram followers than me), and just as much a person as the sad sacks I encounter every week. She’s likely got a higher IQ, too. Of course, she’s also extremely sassy, needy, and attention-seeking. Then again, so are 99.9% of humans. But she also has a heart of gold and has more love in just her little dewclaws alone than humans have in their entire hearts. Does that comparison make any sense?
Waste management
You’re joking, right? There’s no financial reward for not littering? Sure, I don’t pick up any litter as it is, but at least I don’t leave my trash in nature. Well, except for energy gel wrappers during my runs and each race. But that’s it. Ok, fine, I also drop plastic bottles on the sides of roads when they’re empty, but don’t worry, I don’t leave them on the roads as obstacles. I’m not a monster!
What would you have me do? Put the sticky gel wrappers back in my sweaty, smelly, and sticky shorts pocket? Carry them until I find a recycling bin? Don’t be ridiculous! I’m trying to qualify for the Boston Marathon so I must hit my speed work paces and carrying either empty energy gels or bottles will only slow me down. It’s still heavy—it’s made of a lot of plastic! Plus, I already told you, I’m not recycling without receiving any compensation. So, whether the bottles end up in a trash can or among mother nature, they’ll still end up in the same place. From now on, the roads, trails, and grass are my trash receptacles. Sorry not sorry.
Volunteering
You’re going to sit there with a straight face and let me know now that there’s no financial incentive for volunteering at a race? I mean, besides me stealing energy gels and filling up my giant thermos with the hydration stations’ Gatorade. What, do you think I woke up at the ass crack of dawn to hand out water cups to sweaty, smelly ungrateful runners out of the goodness of my heart? My dog is the one with the heart of gold, not me. Besides, I gotta replace all those energy gels I’m littering.
Well, looks like that was my first and last volunteering gig. Just like interns, volunteers should never work for free—unless it’s an intern that works for me; then I don’t want to pay them. Sadly, no one works for me. In fact, I’m stuck working for like three bosses. Plus, I don’t even wear the pants in the relationship with my wife. She doesn’t either—our dog is the boss.
Tinseltown awaits
Well, fortunately, I waited until 2024 to start The Size 15 Runner Podcast, so I’ll get to enjoy several running influencer tax write-offs for next year’s taxes as a podcaster. Right? Don’t tell me it’s not any different than being a blogger. Unbelievable. Fine, what about a blogger-podcaster? Surely, there must be some kind of reimbursement for putting forth minimal effort on a mediocre blog and underwhelming podcast?!
And that’s not even mentioning my lackluster weekly newsletter or stale Instagram profile! Sure, I have only those aforementioned 69 Instagram followers—actually, hold on a second. Let me check. [checks Instagram profile] Ok, yep, still 69 followers. But I still regularly post uninspiring photos with lame captions each week!
It’s just frustrating, you know? I’m selflessly contributing such crucial work to society, and my handful of followers are benefiting off my work for free. Sure, some people are doctors, teachers, scientists, and military members, but me? I’m a blogger that writes about the importance of choosing the nicest-looking running shoe colorways. I produce completely biased, totally subjective running shoe reviews. And I provide only the most (in)accurate and most (non)expert running advice.
Wait a minute! I’ve got it! I’ll start my own running YouTube channel! That’s it! Filmmakers receive tax credits for shooting in certain states, so after selling our home, my wife and I will move to either California or Georgia—two states that offer great film production incentives! It’ll only be a matter of time until I’m mingling with Hollywood’s elite! What’s that? I’ll have to pay even more taxes when I’m rich and living in L.A.? Screw it, The Size 15 Runner is dead to me.
