There's a story I want to tell about myself as a runner. And I want the story to be true, so I have to run the narrative I want to tell. The drive to tell a certain story motivated me this week.
The week began with the banshee wailing in my ear. How do I do this when I often get home from work at 8pm, eat dinner at 8:30, and go to bed at 9:30? Is it okay to not do anything? Every time I don't do something, does that negate the something I did the day before? How do I to this when at the end of the day, my body feels like a wadded up paper ball that some sweaty-palmed middle schooler has been throwing at a wall all day?
On Wednesday I came home while it was still light and hurried back out the door to get my body moving before my brain had a chance to realize what was happening. It felt really good for the first ten steps. And then my legs went acid on me. My muscles felt like someone had strung every sinew with sour grapes - like if you bit into my legs the tartness would go straight to that spot just under the back of your jawbone. (Well, no. At first you'd have to bite through a layer of fat, and as we know, fat is flavor, so for the first bite or two I'm not sour, I'm absolutely delicious. And then sour.)
It was a pretty terrible run. The walking part went well, though, and over half of it was walking, so overall, it was kind of great?
I ran again today after school, which makes three runs in the past week. That's the beginning of a good story.
The week began with the banshee wailing in my ear. How do I do this when I often get home from work at 8pm, eat dinner at 8:30, and go to bed at 9:30? Is it okay to not do anything? Every time I don't do something, does that negate the something I did the day before? How do I to this when at the end of the day, my body feels like a wadded up paper ball that some sweaty-palmed middle schooler has been throwing at a wall all day?
I ran again today after school, which makes three runs in the past week. That's the beginning of a good story.
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