Oh, Exercise, I Love/Hate Your Face

I just want you to know that I've run three mornings this week.  Three!  That's my running record for a week.  If I go running tomorrow or Saturday, I'll break it.  Four whole times.  I can't even imagine what I'll look like after four runs.  Probably like a skeleton with great hair.*

I hate stupid exercise.  Or I used to.  No, I do.  I hate it.  Mostly.  I’ve sort of started to enjoy the feeling of my body as a machine.  A stupid machine! There’s moments in the morning where I start to dig the feeling that I can go on forever.  That my legs are pistons and they would never stop, they would take me wherever there is land.  And then I get to a hill and I’m like, “What the crap is wrong with you, Legs?  Why are you moving like two pink tree trunks?”  It’s a working relationship.

Valerie is really the one that got me into it. I ran a bit before I was married but never owned running shoes or athletic clothing or a drive to finish a run (I barely have that now.)  I got all swelled up from eating more regular meals after we got married and I decided I should do something about it.  Luckily, Valerie is a lifelong runner and has helped me transition into it.

She’s listened to a lot of complaining by me.  We don’t run together any more.  We’re actually terrible running partners. Travel partners?  Great. Europe was a breeze. But running?  Nope.

Mainly because Valerie likes to run and I like to take my mind off running.  By talking.  The only way I can run is to get my mind occupied.  I have to be working on a mental problem.  A script is usually the best thing for my running mind.  If there’s some major edits that need to happen, great.  Brain distraction.

My running and will-to-run only fails when I start to realize what I’m doing.  When my brain goes, “Wait a second.  What the bunk are we doing, James? There’s stuff for smores back at the apartment.  And that cute baby is there and she’ll be crazy excited to see you.  And Valerie will probably want to tell you what a great writer you are over breakfast.**  Get back there, skipper!”

So yeah, I’m on the brink of a four run week.  That’s big time for me.  I should go get Wendy’s to celebrate.  Frosty Day!

*I have a faulty understanding of the correlation between weight loss and exercise.  If I run for two weeks straight, I expect to be swimming in my jeans.  I usually congratulate myself with a lot of Coke and chocolate bars.

**Valerie has never once wanted to tell me anything over breakfast and she is not ever wanting to flatter my ego with writing praises.  She’s generous not stupid.