An oldie but a goodie…originally posted in August 2010 on my first blog, The Colie Chronicles, which I wrote for nine years, almost daily. It remains so close to my heart because of the people it brought my way, and the laughs we shared. Read on and let me know if you want me to share a few more flashbacks.
So I woke up this morning, clearly bat shit crazy, and decided to go for a run. I leave for Italy in a month and I plan on eating and drinking A LOT, and I can’t afford a new wardrobe, so evil exercise it is. I tiptoe to the bathroom and get myself all geared up and then tiptoe back to the sleeping husband. I poke him to tell him I’m going for a run. Just so he doesn’t wake up and think I was abducted in the night, and to prevent me from arriving home to find him blowing up the celebratory balloons (because I’ve finally gone missing without him having to slowly poison me – which I’m quite certain is his plan).
The husband gave me a crazy squint squint look…one eye open…trying to focus on my lovely glowing face at 6:30 am…then he looked over at my side of the bed and looked back at me hovering over him…squint squint squint again. Yes, I said I’m going for a run. A run! No, you are not dreaming. If I’m not back in an hour, call an ambulance.
It’s a beautiful sunny morning, the city birds are cawing, the street is quiet and peaceful…and off I go. I start out walking because let’s face it, I don’t want to drop dead from a heart attack before I even reach the end of my driveway. That would be embarrassing. I really should have asked the husband move my body a kilometer or two away from the house before calling 911. I’ve got my music playing and I’m so impressed with myself that I’m practically skipping.
I reach the path between the houses and I set off running. I’m all, “oh yeah, who won the 100 meter dash in 1980!!??” Yeah, that’s right, I did! Mmm hmm. I was all that and a little red ribbon back in the day, folks. This adrenaline rush lasts for all of 7 seconds. Then my feet start hurting. Must be why all those fit peeps stretch first. Silly me. I forgot to stretch. So I stop and stretch against a telephone pole. I’m feeling all lean and mean. I’m checking out my shadow and thinking, not bad Colie, not bad. I set off running again and I pass a couple walking their dog and I’m all “Wheeee hoooo! I rock!” Those losers are only out walking at this hour to prevent the dog from pooping in the house. But not me, baby, I’m running just because. Just. Because. Check me out. I choose to run.
It’s about now that my inner dialogue begins to change…Oh sweet baby Jesus.
Whoever invented running is clearly in cahoots with the devil. Time to walk. Breathe and walk. Quite sure I forgot to breathe. Breathe, breathe. Breathing is important. I have a pain in my right shoulder. Frig. Is that a sign of a heart attack? No, I think that’s the left side. Okay. Why did I buy these cheap ass sneakers for my big flat Flintstone feet? My arches hurt. My god. Is that my knee cracking? How old am I? Man, I really hate sweating.
Shut it woman.
I turn up music.
I am blasting Eminem now – thinking how I love it when he lies – okay, getting kinda distracted now. I swear to you I am dancing as I walk – head bobbing – skipping a little bit – hands in the air – a little Flashdance-esque run in place from time to time just for fun…I’m finding myself quite amusing…okay, I’m good now. Ready to run again. I’ll run to that street corner…yep, I’m running…running…my shadow looks like it knows what it’s doing. Hey! I’m taller in my shadow…that’s cool…crap, that corner seems a bit far…maybe I’ll just run to the parked car. Right in front of me…okay, made it to the car. Sweet cabinet making Jesus. I need another pole stretch. I spot another dog person. Look at me stretching. Dog walking dude probably thinks I run. Maybe I’ll run past him? Yes, yes I will. Look at me go. Sucka. Okay, he’s gone.
Oh heavenly walking.
I’m now bee bopping along to a little Dixie Chicks (shut up) and then there’s a break in the music and I hear a wheezy old man behind me – holy frig. I didn’t even tell the husband my route! My mother always taught me to tell someone my route! What if I’m murdered out here by the heavy breather and buried in his back yard? I would really hate to eat dirt. I whip around, ready to give him the don’t mess with my stink eye, only to realize that I am the heavy breather. Turn the music up louder.
Maybe walking on the first day out of the gates is a better idea…much better than eating Fruit Loops, right? And then I see this man running up the hill that I’m walking down. He’s running UP the hill, people. He’s checking a gadget on his wrist and he’s all sweaty and fit, and so I have no choice but to trip him. Okay, not really, but I thought about it. Freaking show off.
I decide to run again and off I go down the hill…I make it to the next pole and have a little sit down on the curb. I’m just sitting there enjoying the morning, smelling the roses, soaking up the sun. Who am I kidding? I’m dying. I briefly contemplate calling the husband to come get me. Serious question – how did Forrest freaking Gump just start running? That shizz was NOT realistic people.
I’ve been gone about 45 minutes by now and with some musical encouragement I manage to walk/dance my way home. When I stroll into the house the 6 year old sweetly greets me with “Mommy, are you running because you’re fat?” and the 2 year old leaps into my sweaty arms and smooshes my face. Both just so happy I’ve actually returned alive from my walk. And honestly, it was touch and go for a while there.
Oh oh oh! I also rode the exercise bike tonight. Who AM I?
I won’t be able to walk tomorrow but I’m determined, so, if you see me sitting on the curb outside your house or stretching on a pole near you, give me a little “RUN, COLIE, RUN!”, won’t ya?
Or you could invite me in for Fruit Loops. That’s more my speed.
2018 update: I still don’t run. And at this point, even if someone was chasing me I’d probably be all, meh, I’ve lived a good life. I’ll just lie here and make it easier for ya.