I didn’t want to run last night.
It was cold. And my couch was warm. And my foot hurt.
But the peer pressure got to me.
I don’t like to be left out. I’m currently not speaking to a co-worker because she didn’t ask me if I wanted to order lunch with everyone else.
Then she didn’t offer me cake. After offering everyone else cake. Until I hovered around her office door giving her my judgy eyes.
I ended up with two pieces of cake.
It wasn’t about the cake, though.
If it’s not clear by now, I have issues about being included.
So when everyone else, except Running Partner who had better things to do, said they were running Chaos, I couldn’t be left behind on my warm, comfy couch.
Which is where I actually wanted to be.
So I reluctantly pulled on some running tights and shoes and the ugliest race shirt ever created and drove an hour to Chaos.
It was cold.
But I had my ugly Marine Corps Marathon shirt on, and its only purpose is to keep me warm. (And single. If I weren’t already dating. We don’t wear that shirt around Running Partner.) So I felt pretty confident about my comfort heading out into that run.
I wasn’t real confident, though, about my Achilles ability to maintain going up the mountain.
Someone mentioned running the loop in the opposite direction. I advocated pretty hard for that. I said it was because I’d never run it that way, and I wanted to see what it was like. That was untrue. I just thought going the opposite direction would be a less intense/extended climb, keeping my Achilles happy. She’s been far less bitchy lately, so I like to coddle her to keep it that way.
The opposite direction sucks.
Instead of a long, hard climb, it’s a slow, obnoxious incline.
I didn’t like it.
Plus, my useless ugly MCM shirt was doing nothing to keep my arms warm.
And there was beer waiting back at the warm brewery.
So I insisted on cutting a 5 mile run short at 3.4.
The chick with me didn’t complain. (I’m not naming names, but chick probably has a big race coming up and maybe needed a few more miles. But chick isn’t known for training, so…)
Here’s the beauty of being peer pressured into going last night.
First, I got to spend some time with my people. And you’ll remember that running is my only legitimate social outlet right now. It’s possible that I don’t have excellent social skills. My co-worker is still unclear as to whether I am sincerely not speaking to her or just joking about it. Apparently I’m hard to read?
But fun, if questionable, conversation with my running people gives me an outlet for my social awkardity. Plus I was campaigning for a new bio from GJB. When he starts his own blog. As soon as he figures out the internets. He’s gonna call it “I’m GJ, B!”
But more importantly, I learned that magic is real. Because I have been largely pain-free since running last night. Like, I woke up and walked down my stairs like an almost normal 40-something year old woman and only a little bit like an 80-year old grandmother would.
Chiropractors are magicians.
Dr. Rich is magical.
I’ve been healed.
But apparently I’m still not allowed to do the Blue Ridge Double.
And there are ten spots left…