Catching the Wind

I think I might start running.

I know, that sounds crazy, even for me.  It's not something I have done before.  Well, not in the physical exertion way. I'm a marathon runner in the emotional aspect.  But that's a whole other blog.

Running is not something I have ever really wanted to do.  Even as a kid I disliked it.  I was that kid who got a stitch in her side running gym class, or playing tag with the neighbors.  I even told kids I only had one lung in order to avoid running games.

Swimming was my thing.  I could swim laps for hours.  It didn't feel like exercise.  Riding bike was good, too.  Feeling the wind blow on my face and seeing how quickly the miles went by made it fun, not exercise. But running?  Well, running was just so... blah.  It seemed so tedious and monotonous.

A few times during the last couple of years I have heard "start running".  Me? Right!  I have arthritis in my feet and my knees are bad. I'm too fat and everything would bounce around, scaring all the innocent bystanders.  I have no coordination and will trip myself which could mean I'd break a fingernail.

Please.

In '99 I had gastric bypass.  I launched into an intensive walking regime.  It was the only form of exercise I could handle without tremendous physical pain.  As the weight came off and my stamina increased, I had to keep adding to my walking route to keep up the momentum.

And sometimes I'd hear "run".  I actually thought about it, too.  For a fleeting moment.  Then I'd picture myself rolling down a hill or falling off the sidewalk and the thought would fade.

When we moved into the city, I had visions of walking everywhere.  Why would I need a car, right, being so near to everything?  Well, because of this little thing called cold weather.  It's the bane of my existence.  The cold causes pain, but so does the inactivity.

It turns out that science had also debunked some of my myths for not running.  With proper technique and quality shoes it won't tear my knees apart.  The glut of compression clothing would minimize jiggling.  (I still question that one, though.)

When the hubby and I were out to dinner the other night, I  could see people running on the third story of a nearby building.  I wondered at this marvel, in the city, people running in the sky.  Turns out it was the Y and they have an indoor track.  That seems doable to me, running inside where spectators would be at a minimum.

I don't know.  I just might look into it.  And if I get started soon, I'll be in the routine before the warm weather hits and I can run outside.  If you're one of the unfortunate people who happen to see me running, close your eyes.

I Refuse to Keep Being the Chaser

I have lived a lot of places.  That means I have known a lot of people, some of whom I thought were good friends.  It's easy to fall into this false sense of security when you live near someone and see them on a regular basis.  When you move away, however, it becomes painfully clear how one-sided most of these relationships were.

I've fought a long, hard battle (one I continue to fight) to overcome tragedies and pain from my past.  Letting people "in" is still a conscious choice; one I don't make lightly.  But what is the point of all this growth and healing, of letting people in and being vulnerable to them, if they drop me as soon as I'm out of their sight?

I've come to realize that even when we were "together", I was the one who did all the inviting and planning, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised it isn't any different now.  How are people content with this?  How is it okay to just drop people?  It's a sad commentary on the human state, our selfishness and self-centeredness.

Well, I've decided I am important.  I am worth people's time.  I have a lot to offer.  And I'm no longer going to be the chaser.  If you don't have time for me, I guess that's your choice.  And your loss.  I guess you might notice, but I'm not going to hold my breath.  That could take too long.