A bit of advice to people who run, although you probably already knew this: don’t take four days off.
When I started to run this morning, after not having run since Monday, I knew right away it would not be fun. I took the opposite direction from what I usually take, hoping to fool my body into thinking that I was an opposite type of person from what I really am. I pretty much knew it wouldn’t work, but I thought that different sights might take my mind off my troubles.
I had a vague idea of crossing Rt. 5, also known as State Street, and running in a really unfamiliar section of town, but I really don’t like crossing busy streets. I ran along the side of Rt. 5, though, and looking at businesses and old buildings kept my interest up.
I saw Baker’s Dozen Bagel Shop and was immediately hungry. I ran by the site of the now closed Albany Street Cafe and was sad. Hummel’s Office Plus was closed, so could not wave to anybody there. I saw a gentleman getting out of his car in front of Crazy Otto’s Empire Diner and said good morning.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Not too bad,” I replied, “but I’d rather be going there for breakfast.” I ran on.
I passed the Hot Spot Salon and Luxury Nails and thought a pedicure would feel good. I passed the Folts Home and knew I was not ready for that yet. I passed Mohawk Medical Arts Building and Bassett Healthcare and reflected that I really wasn’t feeling too bad. Anyways, Urgent Care wasn’t open yet.
A drill sergeant once told me that the real secret to running was to distract yourself and to realize how far you could keep running when you feel like crap. I was in a class in the army — never mind what for, I don’t think I learned it — that took place at a campgrounds. Physical Training was on our own, and for the most part we pretty much ignored it, but a few of us got up early and ran. Not together. I did not run very far the first day, but one sergeant mentioned that he ran till he came to a barn then turned around. The next day I said to him, “I ran to your barn this morning.”
“Good run,” he approved.
“It wasn’t a good run, it was a terrible run,” I said. “I wanted to stop running and cry, but I was too dehydrated.” I thought about that this morning.
This is what I mean when I say the run might not make me feel good, but I almost always feel good that I ran. I didn’t even feel like crying this morning. In fact, as I write this, several hours after the run, I feel pretty damn good.
Mohawk Valley Girl 