Running Wild through the Streets of Fairhope
Tonight, I actually lost it. Yes, the white coats are searching and unfortunately, they will have no trouble finding me. I went running wild through the streets of Fairhope, AL. If the mental police ring my doorbell in the morning, they should be patient, because I will not be able to get anywhere quickly.
A new friend, Joan, invited me to join her running group that just started on January 7th. It is a training group of men and women who want to run in their first 5K run in 2014. The run is the Azalea Trail in Mobile, AL on March 22, 2014 and as wild as it seems, yours truly is training to finish a 5K run. It was a goal for 2014 anyway, so when she told me about it, I jumped at the chance to do this with a friend.
This is a team that I have joined. A team that if I decide in two weeks that I want to bail, I will let about 9-10 people down. Running Wild is an athletic shoe store that sells running shoes and activewear in Fairhope and they will be training us to run with them in March. It is fitting that I will be part of a group called, “Running Wild.”
All of us newbies met at 6 pm on Tuesday and I had my first running experience in over 20 years. Before the run, I opened my big mouth and confessed that I used to run 4 miles a day in my 30’s. What the heck was I thinking? I knew after the first 2 minute jog, that my lungs were definitely 20 years older and my muscles may have already atrophied.
If I had the strength or breath to laugh, I would have, when our coach ran back to me (in last place) to encourage me to “smell the roses and blow out the candles.” This was a breathing euphemism to help me concentrate on breathing in through the nose and out through my mouth. All I wanted to do at that moment was to STOP and smell the roses and have all of my Catholic friends light a candle for me. Surely, I was dying and I didn’t want to miss the sweet smell of a single rose.
Don’t let this photo fool you. This is the before picture. I was the last to finish a 2.8 mile walk/jog and it wasn’t a pretty enough picture to take an after shot.
My coach was wonderful. She encouraged, cheered and instructed me on the proper stretching (that my underused brain had forgotten, too) and because of her and my new friend Joan; I will be back on Thursday to do it again – unless the men in white coats find me running wild through the streets in the meantime. Actually, there’s little chance of that happening, because I’m already hoping that the dog can walk herself tomorrow.