I have to say, I don't feel very gracious right now. I've been in a snarl of a mood since late last night, I woke up with a dry nose and a throat that is both scratchy and gooky, and for absolutely no good reason at all. I gave a great recital for my church yesterday - a program that I put together and loved singing. I was surrounded by wonderful people, friends and fellow parishioners, musicians and non-musicians alike. I sang well, we raised money for the stained-glass window, and then the foundation took my husband and me out to dinner at our favorite restaurant, the restaurant where we had our rehearsal dinner the night before we got married. A great weekend.
It's that time of year. Paranoia sets in - will I get work? Was last year a fluke? Am I already falling off the wagon of interest at the age of 28? Oh God, what if I've spent all these years studying just to become another overqualified Starbucks employee?
That's where I'm at.
So at the urging of my husband (urging doesn't really cover it - he pretty much ordered me to) I went for a run. This is usually a good idea. I put on my running outfit that I love, lace up the shoes, put the leash on the dog. It's not very cold, so I only wore three layers and figured I'd be fine. And today would be a perfect day to try out the extension to my usual route. Riiiiiiiight.
Well we started off badly. Sammy was anxious and he was flinging his head around and the tip of his ear ended up in the latch for his leash, there was yelping and jumping while I frantically tried to unlatch the latch and then even more flailing and yelping when I tried to see if his ear was okay. Which it was. So off we went. Up the hill, turn right, even more up the hill, wishing for death as usual, down the hill (hooray, sweet relief) and then left to try out this new loop. Down the hill, up the hill up up UP the hill, plateau, lots of trash cans full of leaves but none appropriate for disposing of a doggie bag, now I'm running with my dog who's practically dragging me by his leash, full of energy, and a bag of dog poop in my other hand, now I'm really wishing for death. Then the left turn onto the parkway which should have sidewalk. But it doesn't. Just lots and lots of uneven ground, with a few asphalt driveways, and lots of trash.
*sidebar* If you're one of those people who thinks it's perfectly okay to throw your Big Gulp out the window while you're driving, I want you to know that there's a special circle of hell reserved for people who litter. Find a trash can. It's called common decency.
So Sammy and I are traipsing along, trying to stay on semi-level ground, of which there appears to be NONE, and trying to avoid all the glass bottles and plastic bags and MAXI PADS that are on the side of the road. I contemplate actually running on the road but I can tell that cars are speeding so I don't dare take my sweet baby onto the road, so it's us and the trash and the hills and e'en so Lord Jesus QUICKLY come and I do mean quickly because I'm so tired now. We round the bend and I can see our driveway and I'm just so thankful to be home.
Mapmyrun.com says it was 2.57 miles. Well I'm never EVER taking that route again.
Time: 35 minutes
Time spent wishing for death: at least 20 minutes
Temperature: 39 and overcast
So let's try for that gratitude, shall we?
1. My dog will be worn out for the rest of the day
2. The down days make the up days seem sweeter
3. T minus three days till Team Turkey
4. Momma's pie crust
5. I can always try again tomorrow. And the day after that.
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