Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

What he said.

It stumps me to understand why anyone would use their horn for anything other than alerting another on the road. I know I’ve honked at people I’ve seen, but I’m careful to slow down, make the eye contact and then wave. Usually they’re overjoyed and we go about our separate ways, but I can’t say I honk at people.

So, if there are any honkers out there, just think before you honk. As a lady, I’ve been honked at and no, I can’t say I have ever even looked in the direction of which car it was. Even if we (and I’m going to speak for all women right now) were interested, like Seinfeld said, what would you have us do? Run to your car and let you know we’re available for dinner?

C’mon.

On to my run: Endomondo didn’t work today. For some reason, the GPS couldn’t find me. I’m actually kind of glad, though. I don’t think I’m comfortable with other people knowing where I’m running (not that anyone cares, but you never know). So, today was fifty degrees and windy. I think, with the wind chill, it was about negative ten degrees.

Okay, not really, but it was colder than I anticipated.

Due to the weather channel’s temperature and the warmth I felt stepping outside, I decided to forgo my mask and running jacket.

Mistake.

During the first nine minutes of the run, I felt okay, but the second nine had me feeling progressively worse. My head and neck felt stiff; I felt this pressure in the back of my neck and the feeling that my head was swimming. I didn’t think I was going to finish the run. Of course, everyone knows that once you start running, you can’t get home without running. If you walk, you’re going to beat yourself up the whole time and people are going to actually see you walking.

I know, “who cares who sees you walking?”

I do. I’m not wearing my running clothes and going for a walk. I could wear my winter jacket and not freeze on my fancy, little walk home.

So, I did what I knew I had to do and finished the run. After the second interval was finished, I wanted to curl into a ball and call it quits. I know it sounds dramatic, but it’s the truth. I knew I’d make it home out of sheer desperation—like those people with incredible strength in a stressful situation; however, I figured I’d probably have permanent brain damage due to my brain freezing (what? Yes, these are my thoughts out there).

The last eight minutes of the run were brutal. Every song on my playlist was awful. Songs that I’ve loved were boring and repetitive. I found myself skipping every song. In fact, I switched to an entirely different playlist altogether. I played “Train in Vain” by The Clash on repeat for the last few minutes. To keep myself from thinking of how horrible I felt, I sang along and tried to think of the many times I sang it in my car (I get quite animated).

When I finally did get home, I collapsed onto the couch, but the room seemed to spin clockwise around me. To avoid the vertigo feeling, I retreated to the floor of my living room and didn’t move for what felt like hours (it was more like ten minutes, but it was intense). Thankfully, I did find some strength to move (only due to the fact that I can’t lie straight on my back for too long, because my head hurts—pillows are okay, though) and lied on my side for some time. After my shower and some lunch, I felt better.

I realize that I have to work on my playlists. As much as I loved them, they’re just not doing it for me. I also can’t ever neglect to wear my mask again. I don’t care how warm the weather people claim it is; I will be wearing that thing for my own sanity. The run itself wasn’t even hard. The feeling in my head was the worst, though.

Now, could I sound any more like a whining baby?

Between you and me: I could.

Advertisements