Today I had to run tomorrow’s ten miles so I could hike tomorrow. Let me explain: my running app- Runkeeper- has me running my longer runs on Tuesdays, but the last time I tried that (my anniversary) my husband was about as thrilled as a preacher at a bar mitzvah. I was shamed for hours and ran much later in the day so I was tipsy and a little agitated when I finally ran.
I didn’t want that for tomorrow especially if I was planning on hiking up a MOUNTAIN so instead I ran at the middle school track and recalled my life 22 years ago listening to TLC and Mariah Carey, toting a smelly lunchbox with embarrassing vegan foods and hating my life. Something don’t change.
Five miles in I really had to pee so I paused my app and drove to another track around a soccer stadium that had public bathrooms with real toilet paper. Then I continued. I was nearly finished when at miles 8.67 my therapist called. I was TWENTY minutes late for my appointment. I apologized eight times and then ran my ass to my car and drove to my appointment, talked about my narcissistic dad and passive aggressive mom and childish, self-centered husband, and then I drove back to the middle school track- which is completely infested with prairie dogs by the way- and ran the remaining 1. 33 miles.
Feeling bad about all the breaks for sips of water, the bathroom, the driving, and the thirty minutes of therapy, I ran another miles- two minutes faster than the exhausted shuffle I’d been managing, in lieu of my usual rest day, and then I collapsed, sun-kissed, sweating and too tired to think, on the pole vault mat.
It feels good to be too tired to think. And I guess that’s why I run.