June 6th, 10:19 AM. I think I'll try for 6 miles today, for real. Maybe not. Last week sucked. But the weather is better today. I can do it, if I take some breaks. I'm wearing a new sports bra. We'll see where the road takes me. I just signed up for a 10k. In JULY. It's going to be friggin' hot, hotter than today. Good lord. Is that a clown on the side of the road making balloon animals??? For a bath and kitchen center grand opening??? Why??? He's looking at me, run faster. Nothing to see here, creepy clown. And I almost died tripping over branch. Ok, try to huff and puff a little less as you pass these college kids...not that they even seemed to notice me. Dogs! Hello doggies! Your owners didn't even glance at me. The friggin' clown tries to make eye contact from across the street but these dog owners give me nothing.
I feel ok, I think I can do this. What did the guy at the flower stand say to me? Not sure, but try to smile...did that looks at pained as it felt? Face...muscles...can't...control....Ok, I'm running the route in reverse. There's no turning back. Well, there is, but I still have to make it home, so... I'll need to stop and walk soon. Oh the dog walkers again! Still nothing. I thought dog owners were friendly. I'm totally gonna run a marathon some day. Right?! I know I'm moving but it feels like slow motion. Like those dreams I have when I can't walk quickly or run and eventually I try crawling. What does that mean anyway? I should probably walk. Sad balloon animal tied to the lamp post, but I think the clown is gone. Jesus, no, he's still there!! Feet away from me!! Look away, and definitely don't walk now. Do not engage, clown, do not engage. Wait, I'm at 5.5 miles. And I haven't stopped yet. Am really going to this?? Why are the last few yards uphill? Don't run me over Mr. Truck. Phew. Holy shit, I actually did it, and totally fist-pumped myself.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
Join the (Other) Club!
So you may recall the pity-party I threw for myself a few weeks ago, after an attempt to join a run club. Determined not to be an awkward, anti-social runner (slash human) forever, I tried my luck, with the urging of a friend, at another group. Apparently everyone gets a high-five at the end, and they drink beer together. And wear matching t-shirts. What mythical land is this? Cambridge, it turns out.
I laced up my running shoes, drove across the river, and hoped for a more positive experience. Would this group really be as inclusive, friendly, and motivating as they claimed? I mean, that's what the last run club touted , and we all know how that turned out.
The high-fives began even before the run, with a group photo. A group photo. Then the organizer welcomed us, first timers and regulars, gave brief pep talk. Wave to fellow runner, give them a thumbs up. We're all runners. She pointed out the leads and the caboose. A caboose? So that means even the last person, the slowest of the bunch, wasn't alone? Even they deserved a running buddy? Is this what a running club can be?
I've been twice now, and both times, I have been the.last.person.to.finish. I'll admit that the first week was a struggle. The run was hard, and being last (even though I had 3 cabooses with me that night!), well, kind of sucked. Last night, I felt less self-conscious about it (and didn't apologize to the caboose for being slow), but it's something I need to work on, to get over. Honestly, no one but me seemed to care or be bothered by my slow(er) pace. Everyone was so nice, which made me realize that I'm the asshole, I'm the one being a jerk to me. Note to self: stop being a jerk.
Someone has to be last, right? The one upside of this is that I get all high-fives The high-fives are real. So is the beer.
I laced up my running shoes, drove across the river, and hoped for a more positive experience. Would this group really be as inclusive, friendly, and motivating as they claimed? I mean, that's what the last run club touted , and we all know how that turned out.
The high-fives began even before the run, with a group photo. A group photo. Then the organizer welcomed us, first timers and regulars, gave brief pep talk. Wave to fellow runner, give them a thumbs up. We're all runners. She pointed out the leads and the caboose. A caboose? So that means even the last person, the slowest of the bunch, wasn't alone? Even they deserved a running buddy? Is this what a running club can be?
I've been twice now, and both times, I have been the.last.person.to.finish. I'll admit that the first week was a struggle. The run was hard, and being last (even though I had 3 cabooses with me that night!), well, kind of sucked. Last night, I felt less self-conscious about it (and didn't apologize to the caboose for being slow), but it's something I need to work on, to get over. Honestly, no one but me seemed to care or be bothered by my slow(er) pace. Everyone was so nice, which made me realize that I'm the asshole, I'm the one being a jerk to me. Note to self: stop being a jerk.
Someone has to be last, right? The one upside of this is that I get all high-fives The high-fives are real. So is the beer.
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