Happy St. Paddy’s Day, folks!
Sometimes at the gym, I run into one of my son’s friend’s mother, Cristin. She is super nice and a lot of fun to chat with on the treadmill. She is great to work out with because she understands that the lulls in conversation are not awkward silences, but rather, “this is kickin’ my butt – can’t talk – trying to breathe” breaks from the banter. She is also great to work out with because she is motivated and therefore motivating. She has set a goal to be ready to run a 5K. We have done some time on the elliptical together and now, as I have been spending more time on the treadmill walking, she has begun some treadmill walk/runs. The other day, I followed her lead for a little while. I was sort of impressed with myself that the running was not as hard as I thought it was going to be.
Now, those of you who have read my fundraising letter know that prior to this year, there was a long-standing joke about me and running. Once in college, I was heading out for the night with my super-fit friend, Diana. We were walking across campus to catch the university’s bus to go to some party or something and I could see that the bus was coming. Well, I took off running to catch it, yelling, “BUUUUSSSSS”. We laughed so hard once I stumbled onto the bus, gasping for air for the first 6 blocks of the ride because it was the idea of being late to getting’ my groove on, that had got me sprinting for a bus. The look on Diana’s face was priceless. I don’t think I had really run like that since high school (if that). I had a card on my fridge that said, “I tried jogging once but my cigarette kept going out.” [Was that from you, Tob?] In my opinion, running was not something you did on purpose unless a really big dog or the police were after you. We still joke about that run for the bus to this day. Even now, I don’t know that I have run more than a mile combined in the 14 years since then…until now, that is.
Today, I was having a particularly good day at the gym. I was in the zone. So I decided to try some walk/runs. I figured I would walk a mile, then run a quarter mile. Well, I was feeling good so I ran for a half mile instead. Then I walked a mile and ran for another half mile! I ran a whole mile, on purpose, without being chased! There I was, smiling away at myself on the treadmill. What a dork! If you are the slightest bit in shape, or you have ever stated, “I'm going for a run,” then I am sure you are feeling a little sorry for me and my pathetic self right now. Don’t! This is a milestone for me that I will gladly look back on. Maybe a year from now, I will run that St. Patrick’s Day 5K with McKate (that’s the Brangelina-like combo of two of my most favoritest friends, JL McKee and Kate B). When he brought up the challenge this year, I laughed like this: BAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
That is the same laugh that my son did today when we sat down to work on his homework and I slapped 2 packages of frozen vegetables on my legs. Did I mention that running gives me debilitating shin splints?
Thanks for reading. More later…