A friend asked me if my legs were sore after yesterday's race.
Well, yes. And in addition to that, my entire body feels like it was beaten with a cast iron frying pan, said I.
Do you remember cast iron frying pans? This is something I remember because I am aging. Not yet aged, but definitely aging. My other proof of this is I am a few years into the "Masters" category at races. Once you get over the indignation of being a "master", it is pretty great. Because you get a special reward if you run well even if a bunch of under 40's kicked your ass. I mentioned to another friend that I had a good race as a master yesterday. She said, are we really masters? I am embracing it, I said.
Another award I recently received came when I tuned into the 3rd chapter of my 3rd book in 3 weeks on audible.com. My iPhone screen had a little message, actually literally in quotes, "you have just received the officially obsessed with audible award" or something along those lines. First, I was disconcerted by my phone making judgements about what I am and am not obsessed with, and second I felt that I probably earned that. Third, I do feel a might bit guilty as I have often preached the importance of the independent book seller. But fourth, I am also officially obsessed with paper books and am probably one of the reasons we have such a successful independent bookstore in my town. And every town I visit.
I listen to my books on my iPhone while driving (you put your phone in your cup holder and it augments the speaker sound. I learned this from Jesse. Thanks Jesse). I listen to books on my iPhone when walking my dogs. And I listen to books on my iPhone when running. A recent 20 mile run just flew by while listening to Water for Elephants. Prior to that it was Life of Pi.
What struck me about Life of Pi was how much I hated the ending. I really really did not like the fact that the author threw into question the veracity of the whole story. I choose to ignore that and just go with Pi's version. The other thing about that book is it very much reminds me of my home life. My husband and I are Pi. Our teenagers are Richard Parker. Our home is the life boat.
Which is another thing that proves I am aging. I used to watch movies and read books and totally identify with the misunderstood youngster. Now I see Rebel Without a Cause and I wonder what is wrong with James Dean's character? Just get a job and stop whining, kid! Sheesh.
I still have a crush on James Dean though. Because although I am aging, I am not yet so aged as to wish it was still appropriate to plaster my walls with posters of cute movie stars. To be fair, husband of mine, I would let you put up an equal number of posters in that alternate universe.
Yesterday's half marathon did leave me sore. It will take me a few days longer than it used to to recover from the frying pan effect. I have a few days off from work, so I think I shall lie around, swaddled in ice packs and heating pads, and listen to books on my iPhone. I will occasionally throw some meat to the Tiger on my life boat. Then, in a few days, pick myself up and get ready for the next event. Which, being twice 13.1, will likely leave me feeling beaten with two cast iron frying pans.