I wanted to give this post a graceful name, but since I’m not too graceful I could only envision a swan. Hence, Swan Run.
Now that I think about it swans are terrible creatures
click on the image and read about the deadly water fowl.
Clearly I’m off track.
Back on track.
I had the most graceful run last night. Why was it graceful? It required no heavy breathing and no forced running. I decided to take my time and enjoy my run on a easy, breezy, beautiful 75° night. My knee was acting up but I still felt like running *mom if you’re reading this no lectures.
It could have gone south, I could have forced the run and pushed myself. Instead I zoned out to the soothing notes of musical classics like Love in This Club and Black and Yellow. I was in this trance like state where nothing bothered me and I was literally smirking to myself.
It was then that I saw five high school age girls. There they were, sitting in a circle on the boardwalk, talking and laughing. This is their last week before school begins and they were enjoying a perfect night. I had this unreal moment of nostalgia. I wanted to be a high school student- and believe me, I don’t think those will go down as being my glory days.
I just spent the weekend with three of my closest high school friends so I guess the emotions are a little raw. I began to think about the nights we would lay out on driveways and talk for hours looking at the stars, times we attempted to get lost in our hometown, going to the haunted part of town, parking the car, and telling urban legends. I began to miss diners at 2 a.m. with french fries, melted mozzarella, honey mustard with a side of coffee. Or the nights we just got coffee and the waitresses hated us. I missed sleepovers, inside jokes, and dreaming about our futures.
I have spent a lot of time wishing for the weekend because they are an escape from the responsibilities of life. Weekends are the times we turn off our minds and relax. How many days did I lose by living like this? Sometimes it’s tough to live in the moment, but as I was running last night I was doing it. I was right there appreciating everything.
I was smelling the crisp ocean air
I dodged a cute little boy with a cute little afro
I smiled at the man running with his spotted dog
I felt happiness for a flirty twosome, maybe on their second date
I saw two women, good friends, walking together. Three girls walked, smoking cigarettes. People were smoking pot and laughing. Two guys skateboarded by me. A young married couple pushed a stroller with a tiny newborn baby. I was taking it all in and not focused on the run itself at all. This is a first for me. Usually I’m so focused on the end of the run and my breathing that nothing else really comes into my mind. Life was good until suddenly my nose got a little stuffy.
Great. I’m about to TMI you so stop reading now if you want to keep a perfect image of me in your head. I could not breath from my nose at this point in the run, and I still had half a mile to go. There is no mouth breathing allowed in this household, so it appeared that I only had one choice. It was then that I decided my best option was to blow my nose into my shirt.
I’m going to wash this shirt anyways. Must not stop running. Who cares what people think. I am absolutely disgusting. That person is looking at me, they know I just blew my nose into my shirt.
It was pretty gnarly, but that’s how into my run I was. It was a necessity at that point, and the opinions of others just did not matter. Nothing was going to ruin my perfect run. Now, at the start of this post you may recall that I told you I wasn’t a graceful person. I felt it was only right to leave you with the truth. The total, 100%, unfortunate, truth. I finished my run in 22 minutes, 11 minutes/mile. I felt good about the pace considering my objective and good about the fact that I’m starting to get a handle on this whole running thang. And apparently I just don’t care what people think as much as I used to… that’s nice too.
52 Miles per Month 