I am not athletic, even a little bit. I don’t think I ever really have been, even when I was swimming competitively. It’s just not really my thing. I like exercise well enough when it happens, and sometimes I actively go out and get some, but usually it’s part of a package deal with something else fun that is the real draw (i.e., the Clark Street Hike I went on with a couple friends a few years ago, when we walked the entire length of Clark Street in Chicago in a day; it’s about 12 miles, it’s much easier than you think, and it’s really super fun and a great way to spend a sunny summer day. I really recommend it to anyone). So this sort of weird sea change I’m going through with regard to running being fun is, well, weird.
Last week I was stuck spinning my wheels trying to do some homework, not getting anywhere with it, and I wanted to go out for my run (because it was Wednesday and that is a running day) but I was in this frame of mind where I was convinced I had to do the homework before I could do anything. I kept thinking, “if I get done with this, I can go for a run then!” I could have been trying to encourage myself with all kinds of other things, like knitting or TV or going out or whatever, but no, I picked going for a run. Of course I was so thoroughly stuck that I didn’t get the homework done until Thursday just before class (and it was crap, too), and I missed my run for two whole days, and it sucked. Friday I got to go for my run and it was great, yay! Today? Today I want to go for a run, except I can’t because tomorrow is run day, not today, and besides, my legs are still kind of not entirely convinced about this asphalt thing vs. the treadmill, and I think I’m going to have to switch back to the gym for at least one or two of my next two run days, which completely sucks because I am really enjoying the lakefront path.
(I mean, really, go to a sweaty-smelling gym — I’m sorry, but all gyms smell like sweaty-gym-smell and they know it — and you have no breeze and no sunshine and no lake and, worst of all, all the cardio equipment at my gym has individual televisions integrated into them so even if you turn it off (which I generally do) you have a blank LCD screen blocking your view of the trees outside the windows. Bleagh. But I suppose my knees will welcome the break, and right now they’re sort of in charge of this gig since, ultimately, they hold the power in this little mind/body relationship.)
So I’m sitting here looking out my windows and sulking because I can’t go outside and run around like a gleeful fifth grader (ok… gleeful fifth grader on the inside. On the outside, vaguely cranky-looking, red-faced thirtysomething in a Sox hat and a beat-up T-shirt getting passed by every other jogger on the path, BUT THAT’S OKAY.). And I’m, like, consoling myself, oh, that’s OK, I’ll just put on some music and jump on ye olde elliptical for a while and it’s almost like a run! Except NO, it’s NOT like a run, because the elliptical is in my bedroom and has a view of my wardrobe and nearby highrises, which are NOT A LAKE, EVEN A LITTLE BIT, grump grump grump, even if I can put the stereo on and not have to wear headphones. Grump.
This is like some sort of freaky sickness that has come over me. When the hell did I turn into the sort of person who sulks if she can’t go get all gross and sweaty? They should put warning labels on the Couch to 5k web site, man. Warning: Will turn you into one of those weird people who count how many miles are on their shoes and think little foil packets of glucose are worthwhile food products!
