By GRL1DRFREK on August 17, 2011
Let me tell you how much I need to go for a run:
Last night, I had a nightmare about these guys, woke a 2:30 am to make sure there were no screaming stitch-faced freaks trying to break into my house, woke at 5:30 am to see if it was time to get up, and woke again at 7:08 to discover that I had already pressed the snooze button. Twice.
There is a possibility that I'm not exactly well rested, today.
My thighs and ankles have been in open revolt since I attemped "hill training" on my stationary trainer Monday night. Yoga is not fixing it. I do NOT have a sit-down job. I do, however, have a date with both my soaker tub and our deep-tissue percussion massager. If that doesn't work I
might cry will have to take some pain meds.
Smiling is integral to my line of work. Caring for kids means Putting On a Happy Face (or at least, something other than a Scowling Sleep-Deprived Face) because what they need, more than anything else, is patience. It is hard NOT to be patient with a comforting smile glued to your face. Try it the next time you want to strangle an especially "helpful" customer service rep. It might work! (Or it may convince him/her that you've forgotten to take your medication, which could actually speed progress to your desired outcome.)
Happy Face efforts were starting to freak out my son by lunch-time. ("Mummy, does your tummy hurt?") I gave up and made another cup of coffee.
So, what does any of this have to do with running? As Shonnie so aptly put it, running is a happy pill. For those of us who struggle with optimism, who tend toward the sarcastic, who always see the downside first; a hard workout is a literal escape from our own negativity. We can actually run away from the kids and the mess and the work and the life that looks so dirty and tired and demanding and exhausting.
And come back better, for that brief escape.
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