On Running and Skinny People

So, remember this? I try to forget it daily but the looming deadline of, um, THIS WEEKEND*, has me running scared. Literally.

After I created this cute little graphic and posted it, I proceeded to not run again until this past Sunday.

Don't you all want to be my best friend now? I'm so committed.

All last week, I found myself scrolling through the interweb, where I kept reading about amazing women who do amazing things while looking amazing.

And, this kept happening: 

Scroll, scroll. Stop. Read. Get distracted by svelte arms and toothpick thighs. Think:

That skinny bitch. She does it all. She's got it all.

And, she's skinny.

Scroll, scroll, scrolling. Stop. Stare at adorable picture of said skinny bitch with her six beautiful children, wearing their crafted crowns and eating homemade apple sauce from their home grown apples, along with her bearded husband, two goats, one pot-belly pig and a litter of white kittens. BLAH.

Gah, I really want to hate her.

How does she do it?

I bet she would explain how she has achieved her amazing life with some ridiculous crap like: 

 "I do yoga at 5:30am before even the chickens are up. And, I just can't drink my fill of green tea. (smiles a huge, toothy smile). We also grow our own produce year around in our greenhouse. I don't like cheese and abhor meat. We are vegan. The goats are for looks. We like to roll around in the mud with the pig. Oh, and, no grains!"

So, you eat vegetables and vegetables?

OH.

I'd be Sports-Illustrated-cover-ready if I lived in that household, too.

I would also be mean. Like, stab-you-for-a-piece-of-chocolate-and-lick-your-salty-fingers-I'm-so-effing-hungry mean.

Scroll, scroll, scroll. Stop. Let mind wander to a world without cheese. No grains--no rice?! No way. No steak!? How. Think.

Exercise. Everything in moderation and exercise. I run. I'm good. Well, I mean, I ran last week. It was pretty far. 3.1, right? Wait. It wasn't last week. NO, the week before?!

 

OH MY GOD I HAVE TO RUN A 10K IN LESS THAN A WEEK. 

This is my friend Margaret who I adore and who informed me just last night that as long as you eat right, you don't have to exercise and will be skinny. Hahahahahaha. I love you, Marg! (As we eat cupcakes, BTW.)

Still with me? Let's go back to this past Sunday when I donned the running shoes after, ahem, a few days of being utterly inactive. I decided to run along the river path, since Darling Spring has decided to stop and stay a while and it was gorgeous and sunny. Cap and I had previously done this run, and it. defeated. me.

W decided to join me, which at once thrilled and terrified me. I would have to beat him.

From my starting point on the path to the bridge where the path ends is 1.7 miles. That morning, I had two goals: 1. Beat W and 2. Just make it to the bridge no matter what.

A few things you should know, W does not run regularly. Prior to Sunday, he had run maybe twice this year. I thought that even though he is perfect and excels at everything he does he would surely suck it up--supplying me with ample confidence and motivation. Oh, and of course, a good run...... Thanks, W......

We started our run. A mile in and my hammies were screaming. (I had weeded the garden at work a few days before and was already sore from bending over--hahahaha, I am so lame.) I thought I would never make it. I kept going though because W didn't seem even close to stopping. I don't even think he was breathing let alone sweating. Jerk.

As we approached the bridge (1.7 miles), I decided to make myself keep going. We turn around, and BAM, are running against strong, whipping wind. We keep going. I actually didn't mind the wind. It sort of forced oxygen into my lungs without me having to gasp and gulp it in. I am sure this is a scientific fact.

About 2.5 miles into it and I'm thinking that I'm going to do one of two things 1. Puke or 2. Push W in the river and end the torture.

But, I soldiered on.

At 3.1 miles, I say, "Not much farther. We will stop where we started."

Of course, I really was just grunting at him while gasping for air. He speaks running-ese, though, so he understood. I said it more to comfort myself but thought he surely must be struggling by now.

He says, "How far have we gone? 1.5 miles?"

STOP EVERYTHING. Did he really just say that? Surely the lack of oxygen to my brain has me hearing things.

I wanted to push him in the river but my arms wouldn't listen to any commands.

1.5 miles?!!? We had been running for 35 minutes at this point.

I somehow manage to breath out, "It will be 3.4 miles."

"Really!?" W says. "Want to keep going? I got my second wind."

I WILL MURDER HIM IN HIS SLEEP ONE OF THESE NIGHTS.

Are you running along with us? Making any progress? I think I am going for 4 miles today. Fingers crossed for me!

-b

*Cap and I are attempting running a 10k on Saturday morning