So y'all remember that day I went crazy and went running, right? Well, I thought I had learned my lesson. But then on Wednesday I went to the gym and decided to try the treadmill. I hate the treadmill - I always fall off and then when I do manage to stay on I fall down as soon as I get off because I feel like the floor is still moving. I made a deal with myself: if I could last 20 minutes on the treadmill then I could go home without doing anything else and wouldn't go to the gym on Thursday. I did 40 minutes, a little over three miles. And hey, did you know that if you actually tie your shoes sort of tight so that you can't just slip them on and off without untying them, they are a lot more comfortable to run in and also you don't get covered in blisters? Learn something new every day.
Then yesterday I woke up so happy that I didn't have to go to the gym, except that as the day went on I started feeling something strange. I didn't know what it was, I had never felt it before. And then it came to me, I was feeling like I wanted to go run. I went to lie down for a while to see if the spell would pass, but it didn't, so last night I did another three miles.
I have two theories about the cause of this illness. Either it is because for the first time in two years I am sleeping through the night on a regular basis and my body no longer knows what to do with itself on all that sleep so it is trying to force me to maintain the same level of exhaustion it has grown accustomed to since about 30 weeks pregnant or so, or else it is some misguided effort to impress Sarah and make her want to be my friend, because both bouts of running have occurred when I had plans to see her (we had lunch today), although she might actually stop speaking to me over it because sitting down to eat an entire pizza apiece is not nearly so much fun if one of you insists on talking about exercise.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not a couch potato (not usually, anyway) and I actually like to exercise because it feels good when you finally stop and it keeps my ass from spreading at a more alarming rate than it already is and it has fewer side effects than Prozac, but I am not a runner, I hate running. Except that I think I am starting to like it a little bit, and it scares me. In fact, I am half thinking that I ought to go run again tonight. I am going to have to start drinking at 4:00 just to rule out that possibility. But I'm starting to think it isn't so bad and that also I might actually get those nice calf muscles that runners have and which I have always secretly coveted.
I'm also thinking of turning this into a diet and exercise blog.
Ok, definitely not that last thing. Hope I didn't scare you there. Oh, and quit emailing me, although you are so kind to be concerned, because I did not mean to suggest in my last post that I am quitting, just that I am experiencing a brief moment of ennui. I will get over myself shortly, I am sure.
Now, who wants to go jogging?