Running with the Devil

Awhile back, I began to notice a disturbing trend among my friends. Friends I'd known for years- decades, in fact- began...running. It wasn't so much that I was shocked that they were exercising. Although shocked I was at some of them. Granted, I'd seen a few of them actually sprint in college when they were afraid the convenience store was going to close before they could get more beer. But in general most of my friends have the same view of running I do. This is one of the reasons I like these girls. If we are running, you better fall in line behind us because you can be assured that there is something we are running FROM.

So, seriously? Running? There are girls I know didn't even know where the athletic center WAS at Clemson who are now posting snarky little jogging updates on their Facebook page. If you're one of them, you know exactly what I'm talking about. And you can vouch for me when I say that we weren't fat girls. We kept our weight down the old fashioned way- with lots of Diet Cokes and fat free cheese.

Even in my adult life there are people I am questioning my relationship with. A latte and a bagel after preschool drop off is a totally different thing when you suspect that the chick sitting across from you has already jogged off all that plus some during her virtuous little morning 5K. Who can I trust?!

I'd started writing people off. I was ticked, quite frankly. Running is my least favorite thing in the entire world. The dentist is actually worse, but running is right directly behind a root canal on my list. So, the exodus of friends who were leaving me to take up my least favorite activity ever was maddening.

Here are my issues with running (I'll try to just hit the highlights):
1) People who do it lie and say it's fun. I can only assume that running turns people into liars.
I can count twice in my life when I ran on a regular basis. It. Is. Not. Fun. That's why I stopped the first time. I got suckered into trying it again and it was still terrible. I know an honest few who say that they do it, but only because they need to get 3 lbs. off and they can't wait to stop.

2) It's a busy woman's nightmare. Running down the street (or worse, a treadmill, going nowhere) heading to no place in particular and nothing to do except think about all the crap your not at home getting done because you're running down the street instead. Night. Mare.

3) It is really messy business and requires a time commitment in addition to the time actually spent doing the activity. Sweat. Lots of it. Usually leaving one smelling like a goat.

4) I can't run for anything. The most I've ever worked up to in my life was two miles. It took a whole dang summer and at the end of every run I felt like I had done a marathon. I have never in my life run more than 2 miles. I could swim 2 miles right this minute, I swear, but running those two miles would be an impossibility. At the end of that miserable summer, I got pregnant with Two Fish. I suspect that subconsciously it was because my body was willing to do anything to get to stop running.

5) It hurts like hell. My ankles and knees pray are praying for mercy by mile 0.1.


But, here's the real reason I'm bitter. It has lately occurred to me that all these people running (and lying like dogs about liking it) might be planning for the future. I've started thinking that perhaps they are just raising all their little children and running their fool heads off now so that they can all have the energy and strength go on some fabulous cruise when they are 70 and play tennis and stay up too late. Or move into the same retirement home together when they're 80 and play shuffleboard all day until it's time for cocktails at 4. If there's one thing I hate more than running (and the dentist), it's being left out of a party. And I really, really, really don't want to embarrass myself by being the one laid up with some heinous ailment I could have prevented when everyone else is romping off to the swingin' seniors dance with their Prince CDs in their hands. You'll all talk about me and how I scoffed all those years about your dang running and say "now look at her." Bitches.

So, I'm running. Swimming takes too long (and I don't have a pool). Taking a class requires one to drive somewhere which ups the annoyance factor even more and walking really, really takes too long. I hate every single step and I'm bitter, bitter, bitter about it and don't plan to do it much longer. It still sucks and I still can't run for anything. I ran .6 of a mile today and when I was done I looked around to see if anyone noticed. I seriously expected a cheering crowd. It was 6:05 AM, but surely someone came out to take note? My ankles hurt. My legs hurt. My back even hurts. A friend asked if we should run together. I told her we could, but that it would be the end of our friendship. I certainly don't want to ruin a perfectly good friendship by vowing to consistently share the most miserable 20 minutes of my day with her.

If this is how much I complain now, I should be an absolute terror as an 80 year old. And I'm going to request a room right next to yours...