My posts have been a bit lacklustre, and frankly boring, of late. This is what lack of running does to you! It makes your head go stale and all the “funny” just runs (..) out. The gym just doesn’t seem conducive to a good story. Maybe it’s the lack of passion. It’s hard to feel the same way about busting your gut on the climber or the elliptical as you do about a long run. No. Definitely not. It’s almost like a metaphor for the rat race life can be sometimes; you work your ass off but in the end you don’t get anywhere.
It’s easy to get stuck in a rut. Groundhog day, every day. Before the kids and responsibilities it was easier to think “oh f*** it”. This would invariably end up with a big night out on a school night, an ill advised shot of Sambuca or getting my hair dyed a crazy colour. These days I am living it up by having a coffee after 3pm (oh, I will pay the price for that! But then, sometimes you have to, quite literally, risk it for a biscuit.) or taking a shortcut with the kids’ dinner and shoving something in the oven rather than cooking a healthy meal. Uuuuh, talk about taking a walk on the wild side! I have become.. lame. Like, totally – especially if you ask my teenage daughter. Though she will probably tell you I was always that way.
But there is something funny that happens when I squeeze my middle-age-nearing thighs into the running tights and put on the rest of my technical gear. I become a badass. I am a Hells Angel on Nikes. People shout insults at me – I respond with a middle finger and bad language. I am quick with an insult at drivers to put my life at risk by not stopping at the zebra crossing. It is almost like having an alternative personality, a bit like Clark Kent. Though you can hardly call me a superhero as I don’t have time for good deeds when I am running, not if they mean I would have to stop! When I run, I kick ass – even when every kilometer is kicking mine.
This weekend, my limp and I will OWN that pavement. With or without the superhero cape.