This morning’s run was HARD. My legs felt super heavy and it was humid and I wasn’t sure I could do it. I ran the first mile and then ran a 2-mile loop twice to get halfway through, and I realized that if I did that loop twice more I might jump in front of a passing car. It’s hard enough to run that many miles (for me). If I have to see the same things over and over again, I’ll go nuts. Or quit. Actually, that’s the biggest problem. If I’m running laps near the house, the temptation to just go home every time I get close to the house is a little too much for me. I’m much more likely to do the whole thing if it’s out and back. I won’t turn around early, and when I reach halfway, I have no choice but to do the whole distance to get home. Anyway, I got to the five-mile mark after two loops and decided to run the last five miles out and back. It was better, but not easier. I found myself chanting “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming,” half the time. I don’t know why I thought it (I haven’t seen that movie in a long time), but Dory was a welcome distraction.
I saw a woman who ran so neatly. Her elbows were in and her strides were short and she looked so efficient. She made me notice how much I move while I run. I’m not exactly throwing my arms around a la Phoebe in that one episode, but I’m all loose-limbed and my hair was bouncing around my head in its braid and I kept adjusting my shoulders and posture – one good shake and I might have fallen apart in a pile of bones. Not trim and tight and economical. Maybe I’m doing it wrong and that’s why this morning was so hard. I saw that woman twice, and both times she made me feel like a slobbering pile of flailing limbs. I’m sure she didn’t mean to – she looked like a nice lady.