Yesterday had all the promises of a lazy rainy Sunday, with little hope of running, despite my current 'training schedule'. Kev tried to get me to go when we first got up but I distracted him with my yummy quiche (and no that's not a metaphor for anything else, it really was quiche - 2 kinds with tons of fresh herbs from my garden). Then I distracted myself with neighbors. Lots of them from all directions, convening on my beloved porch for coffee, quiche, fried rosemary (from my garden too - just call me Martha) potatoes and whatever else folks could find. Hours were spent playing catch up as the gray skies spat and spewed and sometimes thinned just a bit. But even with all of that goodness the running was never far from my mind.
Why am I so anti-running all of a sudden? I'll let you in on a little secret: I don't like working out. There, I said it. Shocking, right? This coming from a person who gets paid to get others to work out. The irony is almost painful. But I don't consider all activity that happens to burn calories to be a workout. Heh-em. Like Yoga. Or leisurely biking. Swimming mayhaps or even a run to de-stress (which I do frequently). Those are outlets, not workouts. The workout angst happens when, for example, I start to train for something and all of a sudden the pressure of that alone is enough for me to psyche myself into a frenzy of negative inner dialogue that has me coming up with every excuse in the book to not do it. Hence yesterday's quiche and neighbors. Then it was work. Then I had to go teach.
The excuses were justa piling up. When I got done teaching I started to walk past the heated yoga room where a class had just started. I looked outside to the sunny skies of early dusk with plenty of light for a few good miles. I looked back to the heated yoga. Back to dusk. I said eff it and went for the sweltering hot drippy slippy heated yoga class and it was glorious. When I emerged an hour later, buzzing and energized, it was 7 p.m. and still perfectly light. CURSES. So I called my dad, after all it was Father's Day. 59 minutes later it was still light out and I had my running shoes on and could be heard uttering the words, Sorry Dad, I have to get a run in before it gets too dark. I'm training you know. So I hit the pavement sans ipod, hoping to just get through the next 3 miles without stopping or cutting short. 3 stinking miles:
You can do this. But oh, how ridiculous running can be. I mean really, why do I need to get there so quickly? What am I running from? To? I'm just running in circles. Jesus, are you kidding?? I'm only at 46th?? Fug. This is torture. Why do I do this to myself? Maybe I could just walk for like 20 steps once I get to 52nd. Who's gonna know? I will! Come on! It's only three effing miles! Get a hold of yourself girl. Oh that damn quiche...
As me, myself, and I continued to trek along, the dialogue got louder. Note to self, never run without your ipod ever again. In fact don't do anything without your ipod ever again. 2 miles down and I hadn't stopped but was looking forward to the red light up ahead. A little bitty pause was coming up. As I reached the 46th St. (remember, I run in circles apparently) corner I was just about to take my delicious pause when the red light suddenly jumped to a bright loud green and I heard the words being shouted Damn girl! Take pride in what you do! But they weren't being shouted at me, they were being shouted at a rather mousey looking girl in the driver's seat of a little white Geo, being shouted by what appeared to be a very frustrated guy in the passenger's seat. Ouch. Although the message was not for me it was received. Loud and clear.
Just past the shouting Geo, I slowed as I approached a very elderly woman, shuffling ever so slowly with her walker tight in hands. Elbow held supportively and protectively by a younger gentleman, she inched her way to a vehicle on the street with little steps attached. I slowed thinking that I would let her pass, knowing that I could have made it but still, I was still looking forward to a pause. A breath. But then she stopped instead and met my eyes as I continued to jog towards her. She let go of her walker (you can't make this shit up) and gave me 2 thumbs up I swear to Jesus and said I used to do that. Christ on crutches I smiled like the dickens and sprinted off, booking it the last half mile until I got to my door steps.
Ok Universe, I hear you loud and clear! Take pride in what I do! Keep going because I won't be able to do it forever! I'm queen of the world! I can do anything! Then I walked into my kitchen and their was dog poop on the floor. Yes Universe, I'm still listening.