Sunday Runday

I have started running again.  I am out of shape.  It sucks.  The End.

I'm a great storyteller, n'est-ce pas?  (And-even better- I remember high school French!)

I gained about a million pounds while pregnant, and despite my best attempts to put off the inevitable, it appears the only way to lose them is through consistent exercise.  I surrender.  Here's the thing, though: I no longer enjoy going to the gym.  It's too much time away from my baby, and I get precious little of that during the week.  So instead, I canceled the gym membership (in my fat postnatal hour of need, sweetbabyjesus!) and run on the roads near our house.

So, during the week I drag myself outta bed and tie on my running shoes.  Off I go into the early morning darkness before the sun wakes up, at which point that merciless heavenly orb will take full advantage of another opportunity to fry us all to a seared crisp. 

Yesterday I waited till just after daylight, because it was Sunday and I wanted to sleep past 5:30am.  It was a sunny, humid 80 degrees when I left the house.  For reasons not entirely clear to myself, I decided to double my normal run with a different route.

I have mentioned that I live in the hill country, a fact that was never plainer to me than when my feet had to not just hover over an accelerator, but actually carry me up and over... one painful, wheezing step at a time.

My internal running monologue went like this.

It's hot.  Maybe it's too hot.  I might heatstroke.  I'm thirsty.  I should've brought a water bottle. 

My knees hurt.  What if I'm getting tendonitis?  Maybe I should walk further.

What am I thinking, running twice my normal distance?  Why didn't I ride Sam instead?  I hate running.

Soooo humid.

I can't do this. 

Watch for snakes.  I can't believe I have to watch for snakes.

My knees still hurt.  Maybe I won't be able to run very far, and I'll have to walk.  I hate walking even more.

I can't do this.

I hate running.

Shut up, Katie.

Hate.

Running.

Eventually, the little Evil Katie Voice faded.  She was probably out of breath, gasping for air and sucking wind. 

On my way back, I tuned in just enough to realize just how much upward rise there is in this particular hill.  Oh, crap.

Suicide.  Maybe I should just stay here with my new friend.

But he wandered back into the trees and I was left alone.  I didn't like him anyway.  I kept running.

And then I saw a speck.

Little by little, the speck came closer and got bigger.  I smiled, and crossed the road to meet the speck.



Thank you for coming to rescue Mama.  I love you both forever,  But no thank you.  I'm almost there, and I'd better finish on my own.

Beep then made the *cuckoo* sign.

 
And off they went, back toward home.  I'm pretty sure I heard them cackling at my foolishness. 

(Not really.)

So it happened that I finished my run, newly galvanized by the memory of the redneck cavalry coming to my rescue.

Happy Monday, everyone!