After a perfectly good run last Sunday, I took five days off. In my defense, I’m in a play. I know, excuses, excuses. I would remind you that few of us accomplish all that we could or would. It is no reason not to continue to strive to accomplish what we can. With that in mind, I ran this morning.
I did not feel the least bit inclined to, but I knew it would be a good idea. For one reason, I was feeling down, down, down. I thought a little physical exercise might perk me up. I told Steven I was going to run while he was in the shower. I wondered whether to go with shorts or leggings. It was in the mid-40s, a grey area for me. The sky was pretty grey, too; it had been pouring rain since Friday. However, I thought it had stopped raining and the drops I heard on the back porch roof (it is really only a slight overhang) were blowing off the trees.
In the midst of a hot flash (which on some days are not a bad thing), I put on shorts and short sleeves. When I got downstairs, Spunky clearly indicated a desire to go out. He is an unusual dog. He does not seem to want a business meeting as soon as Steven and I are up. When I opened the door I saw I was mistaken about the rain, and the appropriateness of my garb. Spunky only wanted to go to the end of the driveway and back.
Now, I generally do not run in the rain. I let myself off the hook or I run in place on the mini-tramp, sometimes watching a silent movie. I have two silent horror movies on DVD I would like to watch this holiday season (you realize which holiday I refer to, yes?). However, to me, mini-tramp and movie running is for the afternoon. It felt wrong. I put on leggings and long sleeves and attempted a run in the rain.
And it did not go too badly. My face got cold, which I did not care for. I could and did pull my sleeves over my hands, which helped them a little. Still, they got stiff. When I got home, I remembered something to add to the grocery list and had to hand it to Steven to jot down for me. That is such an uncomfortable feeling for me, not being able to write. I’m sure my fellow writers understand.
But, as I say, the run was OK. It was not too far into it that I realized my legs were doing all right. They pumped along quietly, not complaining or even getting particularly tired. I did not exactly get a dose of endorphins or even the triumphant feeling of “THIS is why I run!” But I started to feel pretty damn good. I even petted a dog. As I ran through Meyers Park, I saw Rocky, a neighborhood dog I know, with his person walking towards me. She shortened the leash a little, but Rocky has become very well-behaved in these situations. As I petted him, she told me I was brave for running in the rain and cold.
“I needed it,” I explained. “I needed it.” It bore repeating.
My run was only 25 minutes, much shorter than Sunday’s 41, but I thought it was pretty good for a rainy cold morning after five days off. Full disclosure: I did not accomplish a whole lot else during the course of the day and I almost took a blogger’s sick day instead of writing this Running Commentary. Again, in my defense, I’m in a play. I hope to see you all tomorrow on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.
