Running, Now and Then

Running surprises me. I surprise me.

Fears and limitations aside, I feel like myself when I'm running. 

I watched a home movie of three-year-old me (above, right), and there I was, running at full speed. I'm impressed by how I used my whole body to pump up speed.

Like kids tend to do, I suppose, but I'd forgotten...

Running does use my whole body more than I'd realized: sometimes even my shoulders get stiff. I go very slowly, though, so my body doesn't move dramatically.

The other day, a woman my age running toward me on the Greenway path asked, "How far are you going?"

Her question confused me. 

"Um... just to the Uptown, about a mile..." I said.

Now she looked confused, and just nodded as we passed each other. It struck me that she must have thought I was one of her age-mates out for a "long run", one of those slower, long-distance runs people training for marathons do once a week. 

I'm not embarrassed to run at a snail's pace in public, like some people. I like to think of myself as a role model:

Oh look, I imagine people thinking, there's a fat, old woman out exercising––isn't she brave and inspiring! 

The other day I asked Marz to take my photo jogging down the alley by our place (above, left).

Huh. 

I don't look like I think I look.  Yeah, I don't look like a slim, young athlete, but my hair is airborne, for heaven's sake. 

Summer is being hard, though. I did jog twice last week, but even on a low-humidity day (rare), I couldn't go more than 1 mile. I thought about pushing myself farther and got back a very clear NO. I don't think of myself as being very in-touch with my body, so I was impressed that it knows how to get in touch with me.

(I am my body, of course, but that's not how I've thought about it.) 

In May I had worked up to 3 miles, and I had imagined that would continue. I've been worried that I'm already failing at running. (Failing by giving up is a big neurotic fear of mine.)

I am reappraising.

It makes sense to think of this––my first running summer––as a time to strengthen my tendons and ligaments with slow, slow short trots, even if only once or twice a week.

The weather will cool off in a couple months.