Back on the Trail And Taking Stock

Dave and I went running this morning. I tried to be all chill about it, but inside the noggin and down past the heartstrings, in the secret place that knows all my truths, I knew it was really The First Workout of the October Cleanup™. It was a great way to re-engage with being a superhero-in-training. The sun was glorious and the temperatures were blessedly cool (long sleeved running shirt!). We listened to our music and held an easy pace, more like play than work and just what I needed to get over the getting-started hump.

A few years ago when we first started running, we gave nicknames to different spots along the trail (and dubbed the trail MelandDaverland). I nodded in recognition at them this morning (Here I come, Awkward Dip! Hello, Turtle Cove!) and pushed myself to sprint on the uphill bits: up the Spiral, up Cement Hill, up Monster Hill to the miniature train tracks, across the Bridge… just enough effort in the play to remember what work feels like.

At the end, before stretching, I tested out some pushups to see just how miserable they might be. Um, yeah; pretty miserable. I did one set of 10 with my hands on the 8-inch curb for assistance, then I did two (humbling) sets of five (only FIVE) almost-perfect, chest-to-deck, hands-under-shoulders, triceps-pinned-back pushups. I felt like my face was going to explode off the front of my skull, and when I finished, I spent a few minutes panting, hands on my hips, trying to look dispassionate.

Ah, the journey back to FitLand…

It’s going to be like Jane Eyre’s mad dash carriage ride away from Thornfield Hall after discovering the Horrible Secret: bumpy, frightening, uncomfortable, and uncertain. (Thank goodness I have about 1500 photos and beautiful memories of Prague to remind me how I got myself into this situation. It does ease the pain.)

To my lungs and legs, I say thank you for allowing me to neglect your RDA for exercise and to abuse you with sugar, grains, cheese, and other delicious nasty things. Y’all seem to have held up OK.

To my arms, shoulders, and kinda-cute-in-a-pudgy-way-but-too-round-for-my-ego belly, I say, prepare ’cause we’re about to embark on some hard work to get you back in shape. You’re on notice.

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