I Am Not Physically Capable

As I mentioned in the post below, me and exercise are not friends right now. I have not had much of a relationship with her all winter. My usual routine is, that right about now, in May sometime, I restore a somewhat friendly relationship and begin a regular walking/running routine. I shed a few winter pounds ( and I really mean just a few...) but in general feel alot better and can at least get back into last summers shorts and capris.

So, a few weeks ago, I began my quest for better health for the summer season. I set out in my car to select a route that would provide me with a higher heart rate and some burning muscles and finally decided on a 3 mile route that circles up around the high school and UP a ginormous hill called Skyline Drive. I have determined that this mountain was named this because it literally feels like you're walking straight into the sky. It's about 1/2 to 3/4 mile straight up hill. My route then proceeds to go back downhill (my fav part) and circle back to my street.

My first attempt was a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful spring day. I had a spare hour and decided that I would put Nat in the stroller and we would test it out. Me+Nat+Stroller+Skyline Drive=PAIN. It was really, really, bad. I had to stop several times to catch my breath and Natalie was terrified that I would let the stroller go and she would go flying back down the hill. We made it up, and down, and back home. That was my first and last attempt in the stroller. I have settled on either arising early before the kids get up, or I have also gone in the evening. A week or so ago, my husband basically called me a wimp and said that not only could he make it up Skyline without stopping, he could RUN up the hill....and yes, he did. Jerk.

So it goes. For the last few weeks, Skyline Drive and I have had a few meetings. I've made it everytime. I hurt in places that frankly, women should not hurt. But, all in all, it feels good to be out and doing something for myself. That is, until this morning.

I am out, doing my thing. It's 6:30 am, I've already conquered Skyline and I decide that I will jog (slowly, but that still counts, right?) down the hill. I'm cruising along, feeling pretty good, because, afterall it is DOWNHILL.....I get past the high school and can hear behind me the steady trot of another runner. I glance back and notice a nice lady, about my age, wearing some cute pink running shorts. I go back to my business, just humming along, grateful that my street is quickly approaching. And, all of a sudden, BAM....down I go. I totally tripped on an uneven sidewalk - skinned up my knee and my hands. I sat there for a minute and considered crying. Fat lady, trying to run...what the crap am I thinking? Apparently, I was NOT THINKING. It really hurt. I wanted to cry. Not really because of the hurt, but because of my stung ego. And for the fact that I have to exercise. I HATE IT. And, I really hate even more, that my husband has gained a total of about 10 lbs. over the past 13 years and can eat WHATEVER HE WANTS! I bore him 4 children, kept on about 10 lbs. per child, and I have to STARVE myself to get into those shorts from last summer. I wanted to cry....and I did. A little. I let a tear or two mix in with the sweat that was dripping down my face and felt a little sorry for myself.

Here's the kicker...remember the steady trot of another runner that I was hearing? The lady in the cute pink running shorts? She saw the whole thing. And, SHE DIDN'T EVEN STOP. She totally ran right past me and my big fanny sitting on the sidewalk shedding a few tears.

I have a not-so-nice-word that I'd like to insert here, but since I'm trying to keep the cursing to a minimum these days, I won't. But you all know what it is...
So, lady with the cute pink running shorts, if you happen to stumble onto my blog, THANKS ALOT. I'M FINE, NO THANKS TO YOU.

It has been determined that I am not physically capable of running. I may attempt my walks up Skyline Drive, but running has been outlawed.
The picture (while not a close up... didn't want to also show my terribly hairy legs) represents my pain.....physical - it seriously still burns, and was rubbed raw by my jeans today. And the crushed ego and realization that I, at age 33, am not going to ever be a serious runner. Yes, with this mornings fall, I have just now come to this conclusion....and I say all of this while I eat 4 Oreos that my husband thought he hid in the cupboard. Because, dang it (or insert a similiar curse word), I deserve them!