A Mommy Blog About Raising Men, Not Boys.
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Sunday, September 18, 2016

Running From The Rain

I'm an intensely half-assed runner. As in, I am really not invested in it. The things I like about it are the caloric burn and oh that's about it. I am a duplicitous creature, though, and it bothers me to be bad at things (unless those things are  housekeeping or cooking or domestic chores). But I was two days in a row with no work out and I felt an intense desire to burn some calories off as well as just sweat and not be cooped up in my house. So with rain threatening to the west I decided I could do a mile before it started raining. I took off up the stupid hill which doesn't look like a hill at all unless you're on foot, and into the wind.

It was really a perfect day to be outside for a girl who mostly walks and half-assed runs. Personally I don't think it'll ever be MY THING as I've got some arthritis in one knee and I'm fat as hell and I have no stamina and oh god I could do this ALL DAY. There are REASONS why it's not going to be my thing, yet there I go, giving it another try.

Today I half-assed ran down our street, down the main street to the next neighborhood and the length of THAT street and back. I had a plan. I was going to push myself and do the running intervals I was supposed to do for a change. My plan was SOLID. The rain was west, and while the wind was picking up - seriously I'm going ONE MILE. Even my big ass can go ONE MILE in 20 or so minutes. I'm not fast. I stressed this on my whole "half-assed" part right?

So there I am running down the sidewalk and heading toward the next street when something squishes under my feet. I was busy cursing that bitch on C25k who is all "START RUNNING" like she's my boss and just kept going, much to the chagrin of the passing cars I'm sure. Oh well if you don't want to see a fat girl working out don't leave your house. We are legion.

About half way down the next street over the mist began. It wasn't bad, more of a Seattle type of event. Enough to annoy your glasses but not enough to complain about. By then I was struggling to obey my digital overlord when she told me to run so I was settling with walking fast. The street next to me also has a stupid hill that you don't notice except when you're on foot and when I headed back UP my entire body said YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVEN'T WORKED OUT IN TWO DAYS AND WE'RE DONE NOW SO JUST QUIT. It was right at about that moment that the entire sky said HAHAHAHA YOU CAN'T OUTRUN ME NOW and then well....nature happened.

As I walked/half-assed ran down the main street back toward my house I stopped under the canopy of trees as I realized what I had stepped on when I went by earlier. Persimmons! Persimmons, that most Hoosier of fruit, base ingredient for persimmon pudding which was one of the the great childhood cakes of my grandma's house.The owner of this house clearly does not know that you're supposed to put a ground sheet under your tree and that they're ripe when they fall, not a moment before. All these persimmons are getting crushed under my feet and the feet of others.

Philistine.

I made it home, soaked and sweating at the same time which is a delightful combination. Now I really need to go home and get some persimmon pudding. If you haven't ever hard it, here is the realest recipe - my grandma would approve. You have to put cool whip on top, however. It's a moral imperative.

If anyone needs me I'll probably be napping, dreaming of ground sheets and plump, small, orange bombs falling from the sky. There's worse ways to spend my afternoon.




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