Sunday, July 15, 2012
Running is a Fickle Bitch
I took three days off in a row this week. Tough times at work and I didn't feel like, or have time, for running. Once I found time yesterday, I devoted over three hours to my neglected mistress...just her and me for 18 miles on the trails. But it wasn't enough. I suffered in the warm temps as the sun beat down on me. My pace was slow and my right foot ached. I was tired, but I wanted to prove myself worthy of the title "runner." I failed. Nine minute miles faded into ten minute jogs which turned into eleven minute slogs. Three days off and this is how you treat me? Screw you!
Running isn't my only interest. I have tennis, soccer, hiking, and biking. Two can play at this game. Maybe I should toss this fickle mistress aside and hold on dearly to a more stable partner...hiking seems nice. Beautiful wooded trails with lots of hills and lakes? No rush. No pressure. Just a walk in the park. Who'll be jealous then? Don't think I won't make the swap. I have options. Understand?
My wife is away for a couple of weeks, maybe running and I can "make nice" and enjoy lots of solo time together. No other distractions. No other temptations. Care to give it a whirl? Maybe double-days for a week or two. Early morning jaunts, followed by romantic evening strolls?
I'm serious. If running and I don't work this out soon, I'm seeking a divorce. I have plenty of evidence of your cruel treatment. Don't make me go public with your temperamental ways. You've caused mental and physical anguish. Just treat me well and I'll stay with you. I'm willing to work hard. Long runs. Tempo runs. Hill repeats. Intervals. Strides. Let's make up and go forward, hand in hand. Running, you out there? You listening? Don't be a fickle bitch. Let's make up.