"...he was probably just beginning his mid-life crisis, hence the jogging stuff. So, the message here is twofold: First, you never know when you're going to die, so you should be sure to have fun while you can. Second: this story reinforces my belief that jogging, whether on a treadmill, a neighborhood nature trail or even a beautiful beach, is truly a BAD thing." - from AIRPLANE, originally published in The Penny Chronicles March 17, 2010.
OK, so now do I have to eat my words? I have, I am deeply ashamed to admit, taken up running. I am now one of those crazy road weenies you see at all times of day and night in ill-fitting and unattractive clothing, bobbing crazily through crosswalks and between parked cars and around stopped school buses, and even worse, one of those who stop for traffic signals but keeps running in place. I have joined their ranks. For some reason, I have a deep seated desire to run some sort of footrace. So, I am currently training for a 5 kilometer race which will be held in three short weeks. I have NEVER run before and I have a few theories why.
- First and foremost, I have now proved what I have long suspected; that my body is not made for running - it is made for fishing and eating and playing at the beach and sleeping and other pleasurable pursuits.
- Second, inclement weather is best enjoyed from either the cozy cabin of a warm, dry pilothouse or the plush sofa of a home with a well-stocked kitchen or at least a good and reliable source of take out food.
- Third, I am an embarrassingly SLOW runner. I am so slow that I have nightmares of the race officials closing up and leaving before I finish... Of Boy graduating from High School while I am trying to finish this race... Of missing dinner...
Despite the compelling reasons I have to NOT run, I still put on my tennies and head out the door and slog around the neighborhood for a bit a few times a week. I keep putting one foot in front of the other and smile through the complaints my body is making. What's getting me off my big comfy couch? I just keep imagining my triumphant dash across the finish line. In my case, my 'dash' is likely to be a slow jog or even a walk or perhaps even a crawl but as long as I make it to the other side of that line, I don't really care.
