I ran at the park today after work. It was one of those "Just do it before you think about it and chicken out" runs. I'm glad I did, because the weather was perfect.
I couldn't get anybody to walk wi me, as usual, so I ran to get it over with faster.
There were a few people out, mostly women, walking with near-purpose. Okay, they were merely strolling. I passed them with all the speed of a heavily pregnant yak.
They were wearing gloves. And coats. I mean, it was 63 degrees and not even windy. Yes, I believe one of them was actually wearing earmuffs.
I'm a person who fears catching a chill. I went in my running tights and a short sleeved tee shirt and was very comfortable before I even left my warmup walk behind. Lovely autumn afternoon after a week of temps in the 30s. Because this how December starts where I live -- ridiculously warm temps in the 60s or 70s after weeks of freezing temps.
Nah, I don't get it either, even though I am the noobiest of beginners to running. (How long will I be a beginner? Until I can tackle a 5k without a walk break? Until I can do my runs every other day without pain? Soreness I understand. Pain I do not.)
I knew I would heat up once I started running, but just how much surprised me. Actually, my newfound ability to sweat appropriately has been a useful surprise. I didn't really sweat before, and I stayed hot. Now I sweat and cool down, and find that my hair is entirely sweat-soaked at the end. Well, usually matted, too, but a ride with the windows down and the wind blowing thru my air just feels perfectly satisfying. I'll leave the matting problem to the chick that washes my hair before 7 each morning. She's usually too sleepy to notice the mess.
So... I sweat, stretch, foam roll if I'm sore, and then get so cold I take a nap for a couple of hours when I get home. :D.
I did notice a tiny change in my thighs today when I looked down during a stretch... A tiny bit of definition. Woohoo...! It's going to take a long time, but it is possible.
Apologies to anyone bothered by my grumpiness this week... That was how I hid being dangerously depressed. I was in a lot of pain, but nobody gets that so they call me a bitch and shun me. That's all I'm going to say about it, but after taking a sick day with a sore throat, the black dog finally let go of my throat. And the real reason for the blackness made itself known. Female hormones. And they intensify the stranglehold the older I get. I used to think PMS was bad. I know something worse. Perhaps this explains my mother's behavior. Hmm.