Run Florist, Run!

Anyone seen the movie Mafia? The title makes more sense if you have. :)

For most of my life, I was a dancer. Fifteen years, to be exact. It has always been a passion of mine, however, since high school I haven't done much more dancing than a somewhat monthly Saturday night bar romp with the girls. Fun, but not the same.

In high school I was fit. Very fit, and didn't even realize it. I took it completely for granted and didn't even consider the fact that some day my six pack abs would turn into a half-dozen rolls. But here I am, almost ten years later and not a single chisled muscle in sight. For the first five years, there was not much change. Didn't gain anything, and my clothes always fit. Although, at some point they started fitting just a little differently. Things were no longer in the same place as they were before. Then, a few years ago, the clothes started getting a little tighter - but I refused to buy a bigger size. No way. I'll get rid of it - but not today. Maybe next week. It's not that bad. The jeans still fit, it's just my thighs that can't breathe.

I had also heard that most women after a certain point in life will gain five pounds a year, if not kept in check. Not me. I have a mean metabolism, and a very good case of denial. Well, three years, fifteen pounds, and two sizes later... I've flown past anger and am finally in the stage of acceptance. I have gained wieght, and it's all my fault. Don't get me wrong, I have actually come to like the softer edges of my scrawny bones, and there are some unmentionable perks to gaining a little more padding. However, my midsection has gotten decidedly rounder, and my upper arms are looking much more deflated than they were just a decade ago.

This will no longer stand. The time has come for a change. But what to do? I have tousled with the idea of joining a gym, but that's something that can hurt financially if you don't use it productively. Plus, what are all of these crazy metal machines? It's pretty scarey! I could take some dance classes, but I'm not up for a slow-motion rendition of "tappa tappa tappa." I tried a Daisy Fuentez Salsa Dancing Workout Tape at one point, but I barely broke a sweat, and was bored after a week. Sorry Daisy.

Then there's running. Brother, not a chance. I've never been a runner. In elementary school, when everyone had to run the mile, I walked. Didn't even try. Hey, I'm admittedly an underachiever - but this had nothing to do with lack of motivation. I simply looked like a moron. Ask me to leap, pirouette, and pliea - I'll dance 'til the cows come home (and pretty well to boot) - but running is something I've never been able to find the coordination for. Think of the episode of Friends, when Phoebe runs in Central Park - that's me.

However, my loving and all-too-convincing husband has somehow made me see the light at the end of the mile. "Running just takes practice - It's strange for anyone when they first start - Give it a try." Okay, but only if you'll be my coach.

So now he's my running coach. We run together through our neighborhood three times a week, or at least we try. And he can make me run, even on days that I don't feel like it. He has that power. How did that happen? Oh yeah, I gave it to him. But really, he's been great. And we really enjoy our new hobby. He's been running for a couple of years, but it's new for both of us to run together and outside. Is it crazy to say I'm actually having fun with this?

Well, I was having fun until this week. Only a month into it and my knees went kaput. Something has to give, right? Yeah, it was my knees. A few days ago the run was bad. I was tired, possibly dehydrated, and just in a poo-poo mood. And my knees started hurting. We finished the run, but it was not fun. I'm usually not one to back down from a little pain, but this was no bee sting.

So I rested for a day, and we went again yesterday. Well, there they go again. This time I couldn't finish. We just had to walk home. I am going to try icing and taking Aleve to get rid of any inflammation, and try it again next week. I'm hoping it's nothing too serious. I'm really getting into this. And it's bumming me out to think that I may have to come up with another plan.

Not to end on a bummer. I mean, at least now I know how good it can feel to be active again. These days I am feeling more like my age than I have in a long time. Hey - I'm young! I should stay that way for a while! I just hope this is a passing pain and I'll be up and running again next week - literally!