I used to jog a lot. A lot. I did lots of 5Ks, 10Ks, did some half marathons, pounded pavement. And then one morning, I was doing a run with my running group and it dawned on me: I don’t enjoy this. So I up and quit – right then. I know, weird.
But then the past couple weeks, I felt the urge to go run, but it was always at bad times. This morning, felt it again, ran. 3 miles around town lake, about 10 minutes/mile. I was proud of that, even though lots and lots of faster people were passing me.
Woody was out there singing, dogs were swimming, the wind was blowing – it was a perfect day for a jog. There was some energy drink stand out there giving samples, and only the walkers were taking it. I wonder what that means. There were even some really nice people scrubbing the bird poop off of the railing on the bridge near Austin High. I thought, wow, that’s great, how humble, they’re probably getting it all over their hands and under their nails, that’s nice. I don’t want to do that – and they probably don’t either, but there they are, and I appreciate them. And now people don’t have to be scared of touching the railings, so it’s very kind of them…even though it bugs me when too many people are crowded on the bridge holding onto the railings and stretching and blocking the path. And just then when I ran by, I felt some of the bird poop juice fling from the scrub brush to my leg. Niiiiiice.
Had my music strapped to my wrist by a very lovely blue sweatband, which came in handy as a strap and also, truly, as a sweatband. When I got to the car, I noticed that my face was covered in dark blue fuzz.