in which i flee like atalanta and crave a pancake

sneakers

I’ve been doing a bit of running, and it’s been pretty fabulous. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about it, since the last time I ran any length was probably two years ago or so.

But the amount of time spent away from physical exertion didn’t sway me any, and I’ve bravely forged ahead upon the running trail. Actually, it’s been more like running/walking, and it’s not particularly a trail, but rather the pavement around my neighborhood. But, STILL. I’m forging ahead. There is forging.

Realizing how delighted I was in pursuing this, I took myself out and bought some new running togs. A running skirt, running shoes,  running shorts, and a sports bra.

I have to tell you, though. The sports bra? Does something quite sneaky and decidedly unappealing to the chest area. Whereas before, I looked something like this:

melon

With the sports bra, I look more like this:

pancakes

(But, you know. Without the strawberries).

What’s happened to my gazongas? I wondered with growing dismay, gazing at my squished reflection in the bedroom mirror.

Not that I was really all that voluptuous to begin with, frankly. And, really, I shouldn’t put so much emphasis on how I look, in this instance. I mean, I’m pounding the pavement with sweat dripping, panting wildly, red in the face, whilst flailing my arms around like an over-sized toddler. I obviously haven’t gotten my sleek, quick-as-a-cat, lithe-yet-refined runner’s technique down quite yet.

One great thing about running, for me, is that while I’m doing it I tend to get lost in some pretty grandiose plans. I get motivated. And make lists.

1.  I’ll be successful. And fulfilled! And sell my book, while I’m at it! And maybe even call myself an author! Which would be good! Really good!

2.  I’m going to begin to go to bed early – by 9:30! So that I’ll have plenty of rest, and wake up in the morning invigorated and ready to go. Maybe I’ll even start doing yoga in the morning! And meditate! I’ll be enlightened! Or at least, not so bitchy!

3.  I’ll begin to drink green tea again. Really! And my skin will shine with health and vitality! I’ll be healthy! And vital! And my skin will be good! Really good! And shiny!

4.  From all this running, my muscles will begin to take shape in ways I can only imagine. What’s more, my breasts will begin to look better in this sadistic top! If anyone cares! Which they most likely don’t! Plus, I’ll have more energy to write, what with using all these exclamation points and such!

5.  For crikey’s sake, stop making lists! Now you’re doing it in your head, you fanatic!

Aaaand scene.

The truth is, running helps put things into perspective. I find a good deal of clarity after a run.  And I have lots more motivation, which feeds into all these ideas I’ve had in the first place, for which I never could quite get any momentum.

Running seems to have changed all that. Curiously, I feel I can conquer things. It all seems within reach, if I just work a little harder. And the working harder part feels viable, too, which somehow just didn’t before.

Maybe I’ll get better at it and run a marathon. Most likely I won’t, but I’m not completely ruling it out. Right now, I’m happy if I can make it to the next telephone pole.

At the very least, I can watch my shadow while I flail away like a crazed hen, looping and gaggling, arms and legs akimbo, and dream big of all the amazing things I know I can do. It’s so easy, really. All’s I gotta do is get off the couch, away from the stern glare of the computer screen, and do them. A whole stack of amazing things, just waiting for me to gobble them up. No syrup required.

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