I had a hard time getting out of the house last night to run, it being Friday night and all, and that is my favorite night to get home with a teensy happy hour buzz, grab the mail, get into cozies, Uggs, and the couch to watch my DVR’d shows. There was a pause in college to this Friday night routine, mostly the fault of SDSU TG’s, but I can say that the majority of my life from high school to now I am a big homebody on Friday nights.
I was particularly slowed down by a video of a UNM soccer player violently taking down an opponent by her ponytail. I posted to my Facebook, got some good comments going, and then fretted that it had been a huge posting and commenting day for me already and that people were probably hiding me from their Feeds. Self-absorbed and insecure all at the same time, it’s so attractive. I got off my ass and went to run.
I quickly decided it was not a 5+ mile night and calmed down into a steady pace. I kept thinking about the UNM soccer player and how much I love the game and most sports in general. I have always wanted to be an athlete, but honestly, it is a struggle for me in nearly every single game or sport I have ever tried, played, or skied. I was always the near or last picked in PE games, I tend to shout “sorry!” when I miss a pass or a dig, and do not pick up dance steps quickly. But I really want to be good, and I really want to play and have noticed that as I get older I am having a Benjamin Button experience: I am getting better at sports and games. Somehow the one area of my life where patience has been virtuous is in my physicality. I listen and wait and adjust, and then eureka (!), me and my body do it right.
The run was not going well last night, however. It was the kind where my inner voice was have a lunatic screaming breakdown to stopSTOPSTOP running and just walk!! She was being a total fucking whiny bitch, but I stayed calm and just kept running and trying to find a damn song that was not totally irritating to drown her out. She finally got replaced by another voice, the one that likes to write while running, but she sounded as if she had been on a caffeine soaked meth bender for three days.
OMG whaddya gonna write about tonight? What, which part, whaddya think? Maybe about how you are excited and that you can write about all of your thoughts and anecdotes, but wait don’t all these people know every one of your stories already and you’re totally turning into your dad, god he repeats shit a lot, AND WAIT (!), oh my god, he was laaaaaaaaaaaame today when he called about the Op-Ed and can he just fucking learn to give a compliment? NO wonder you are so tough on men, he is too tough on you, Psych 101. SHIT. Did you send Kate a note when her pooch died or just an email? Argh. Bad friend. Did your 30’s just fly by and you got married and divorced in that time? Wow, that’s a lot. You know you still have to write those letters, you should do that this weekend. Oooh, Retinol is working…
OMG, please shut up.
And then, I got home. Hills on Saturday.
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