Usually we run on Sunday/Tuesday/Thursday, but our groove got thrown off this week so I ran this morning. Want to know what’s nice about Saturday morning runs? Garage sales. That’s right. I looked up garage sales in our zip code and plotted my course. I hit approximately 4 garage sales and one mislabeled estate sale (I’m talking to you, woman who was selling a giant inflatable Monster Energy Drink can and a 1980’s big screen TV out of her carport). If I hadn’t returned after my alotted hour run time, Alex could have told the police “Set an 18-minute-mile search area, concentrating on any garage sales and/or sprinklers.” Totally feasible that I might have chosen to rest on someone’s wet lawn or under a table full of tchotchkes.
Anyway, I thought I would regale you with a story from my freshman year of college about my ineptitude at exercise.
One morning, I decided to head on over to the Rec center to workout. For breakfast, I enjoyed a blueberry bagel and a smoothie. The Rec center was about a 20 minute walk from our dorms so I rode my bike. Now, it was only about a mile away but you had to go into a tunnel under a road and then come back out the top again. If you know my history with biking uphill, then you can imagine how difficult this was for me.
As soon as I made it to the Rec center, I felt like I was going to toss my bagel and smoothie so I decided that going inside probably wasn’t the best thing. I can’t remember if I tried to ride my bike again or if I just pushed it, but I started the long journey back to the safety of my dorm room toilet. Unfortunately, after coming back out the other side of the tunnel, I felt overcome. Unfortunately (#2), the only place to lay down was on the large expanse of sidewalk in front of Kyle field, the Fightin’ Texas Aggie football stadium.
So, I laid down…on the ground…in front of a football stadium…after ten minutes of exercise…because a blueberry bagel was going to get the better of me.
About ten minutes later, my best buddy Joseph, who is either very observant or very curious (or I texted him), came by on his way to the Rec center. He must have noticed the suspicious dead body laying in front of the stadium because he meandered over. My memory of the details are fuzzy, but I do remember looking up at his face and feeling like I was going to die and he had saved me from my evil, fire-breathing blueberry bagel. He helped me and my bike get back to the dorm safely and without vomit.
And then I never ate a blueberry muffin again.
I’ve come so far.
(If you want to read more about the half-marathon and/or adoption, go here.)