I ran today.
Yes, on purpose.
No, no one was chasing me.
I’ll fill you in on the “why” tomorrow. It’s late now, so
let me jump straight to the “how.”
I’d been taking care of a semi-sick preschooler most of the
day (you know, that stage between actually sick, and jumping on the couch?). She'd finally settled on a movie to watch that held her attention pretty well.
The 3rd grader got home from school and started
on her homework, I had supper planned out, and everyone seemed to be holding
their own (and no one else’s). So I figured it was now or never. I grabbed my
brand-spanking-new running shoes and my also-brand-spanking-new running shorts,
and proceeded to attire myself. I snatched up my mp3 player, picked some
appropriately loud and fast music (Audio Adrenaline, anyone?), stretched, and
bounded out the door!
I took a few quick, long walking strides out to the street,
then broke into a loping run (ok, in my mind, I was The Flash, but I’m
attempting to be realistic here). Being the analytical person I am, I began to think...
- First thoughts: this isn't so bad; it feels good, and I think I like it; yes, I think I could do this every day!
- Second thoughts: who stole my second lung? maybe I should add a walking interval now; I wonder how long I’d have to lay here before the kids came looking for me and dragged me bodily back to the house.
- Third thoughts: Nah, it’s gonna [insert euphemism for “be really annoying/horrible"] but I can make it.
So I alternated jogging and walking the “whole way” down to
our cul-de-sac and back. I don’t know the distance but it’s NOT far. It took
maybe ten minutes. But that’s ten minutes more than I ran yesterday! Or, well,
probably since those physical fitness tests in high school. It took me another
ten minutes to breathe properly again. Note to self: take the inhaler BEFORE
the run next time!
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