Today’s two mile run was extremely hard. It felt like someone was on my back. I never really found my rhythm. Loletha, my fitness sister, was right beside me reminding me I had done harder things so I could do this. I started sweating immediately. My thoughts, much like my breathing were all over the place. First I thought about my speed, the permission slip I needed to sign, then running form, keeping my shoulders down, the load I forgot to put in the dryer and finally my thoughts rested at finishing the run.
There was this pressure to get it right and finish strong since I had done six miles on Thursday. I finished the run faster than the last two mile run but I had to fight for it and it just felt all wrong.
After the run I went to sign up for spin class. I enjoy spinning after a run. It makes my legs and knees feel better. Although I arrived 45 minutes early I was put on standby. The class was full. I scanned the class looking for newbies who may only spin 30 minutes instead of an hour. No such luck, the class was full of vets. Heavy sigh.
Loletha gave me THAT look. She wanted to run. I was not as eager. She wouldn’t let it go. She wanted to run around Jamestown Mall then come back for the last half of spin.
Reluctantly, I found a pair of mix-matched gloves for my hands and followed her outside. The 38 degree winds slapped me back inside. Made me feel the damp T-shirt underneath my hoodie and the moist scarf on my head from the previous run. I could not hang and wasn’t afraid to admit it. I needed more clothes. I didn’t have more clothes. Yes, cold air made me a punk. Loletha and a new girl ran on.
On the way in through the back door, I passed Ava who was repairing a spin bike. Without looking up she chimed, “This one’s for you. We gettin’ it in.” How cool was that? I’d get to spin for close to an hour after all. This ain’t your daddy’s gym. We looked after and challenged one another. We were family.
Until next time…
“The only people who you should try to get even with are those that have helped you.” – John E. Southard