Running in the rain last Sunday for 16.6 miles was just plain fun. The last 3-4 miles kind of hurt, especially my lateral right foot. My shoes were all squishy and wet and the course was inclined so I felt like I was running with ataxia or on one of those courses they use in car racing. I might have tweaked a tendon or worse. But probably nothing ice and tincture of time cannot cure.
Since then, I have been resting. Partly to be sensible (doctor's tendon, heal thyself). Partly because work is kicking my butt. I cannot blame weather: it is unseasonably warm here. I cannot blame lack of motivation. I mean I love running. But I have been undisciplined in my lack of a routine. Rock Creek Runner had a good post today about how to plan and be efficient. Common sense stuff. Being a midwesterner by birth, this should be my strong suit, but I now live in California, which, while known for many things, has never been known for its common sense.
One of my favorite runs comes up soon. And I am once again faced with not being at my best and hesitating to do it because if I don't break an hour, WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT? This run celebrates its 50th year this year. And the t-shirts are reportedly way cool. So, I should probably do it even if I am as slow as molasses on a Triscuit on a sunny day in August in Alabama.
I am getting better with the whole humility thing.
Humble about parenting? check
Humble about my hair falling out again? check
Humble about doctoring? check
Humble about how a 6:30 mile use to come easy and now it just seems unattainable? getting there.
Sometimes too much humility can make you want to crawl under your covers and hide.
I think midlife does present a sort of crisis. For women, you have reached an age where you have to accept that college students call you "Ma'am" and your wrinkles are permanent. People should not be judged by their looks, but women are, every single day, in every situation. Also, midlife points out to you that less years lay ahead than behind. It is called "midlife" but it is probably pretty far past the halfway point. Also, you realize you have already messed up your kids and cannot have any do-overs. Unless they have grandkids, in which case, send them over to eat cookies for breakfast and take long rambling walks in the woods and to dig in the sand at the beach and watch stupid TV shows and listen to Beethoven. All of which I actually did with my own kids, except maybe cookies for breakfast, but somehow grandparents just do stuff with more flair.
I said to my husband the other day, regarding the midlife crisis issue: "I wish I could just buy a corvette and be done with it."
Alas, for me it probably is going to have to involve months to years of soul-searching, a lot of long runs and a completely new wardrobe. A corvette is just too easy.
But if I did do the corvette, it would be a 1957, red and white.
Can you soul-search in a '57 corvette?