Trying to Keep Up

Image by State Library of Queensland, Australia via Flickr

I’ve discovered that a few ladies around here are runners and I really admire that.  Just knowing that people are out there exercising thrills my heart, truly.  I haven’t been into running since my days at college, but Phil has been pumping me full of grandiose ideas about us someday becoming a running couple.  Someday, when we can leave the kids alone in the house.  Someday seems like eleven’ty years away or more.

For now, I’ve just been doing my thing whenever motivation persists and coffee is strong.  “My thing” usually consists of a pair of 5lb hand weights and some amazing moves you’ve probably seen on jazzercise.  I was quite passionate about aerobics as a youngster.  My sister still has tormented visions of me coaching her and my brother through an aerobic program in mother’s heels but, back to running...

Although I had received invitations to join this group of highly motivated women, I had declined for valid reasons.  1. I’m quite busy being a housewife 2. I have a baby who just learned to walk and there’s no way he’d be able to keep a steady pace 3. I just..quipch.

So, when Sara  texted me the other day to join her and the ladies on their Monday, Wednesday, Friday program I knew: I was doomed.  Phil’s boss had mentioned on several occasions that baby boy would be welcome to stay in the office while I went running with the ladies.  Oh Lord, I can take a hint, I need to get out there. Amen.

Monday wasn’t gonna work but maybe Wednesday would. I told Sara that I would try to make it happen, and so I did; baby boy in tow.

The path that the runners take is a beauty.  I have been out with the family on it a time before and we had enjoyed every tree, every stone and every dog in every golf cart.  It is a beautiful path around Lake Peachtree, perfectly forested amongst Southern cottages and mansions.  Who cares if I am terrifically slow, I don’t need to prove anything to NObody!

I started off strong, then without warning, my lungs started to burn and my calves kinda hurt. I pushed through it for a maximum of 103 seconds.  I read somewhere that it is good to ease your way into a running program; alternating a little running with a little walking.  I was enjoying the scenery but, at my own pace.  The other runners were encouraging me along the way and so kindly offered to take turns pushing baby boy in the stroller.  One would think that seeing my boy up ahead in a stroller would have been enough motivation for me to keep up the pace, it was not - struggling for each new breath of fresh, peachy... air.   I gave a brief warning to the road warrior beside me however, it was inevitable: I was going to be sick. It’s really hard to make sickness look pretty, especially when it starts with a ghastly guttural noise and ends up coming out your nose.  You know... that kind.   Not that I would have preferred being sick in an alley, but in the backyard of some Rhett Butler just adds to the shame of it, I’m sure you’d agree.

So, if you’re feeling guilt about getting behind in your exercise routine this winter; take heart and get back out there.  I had the gross and awkward experience on your behalf, how much worse could it get?  You're welcome.