I might have missed out on the traditional New Year’s Day run to the Mill Mountain Star this morning. And I might have also missed the traditional Chestnut Ridge Trail Run this afternoon.
Because I’m 44.
And what happens when you’re 44, and you’ve spent the last 20 New Year’s Eves happily at home on your couch blissfully ignoring the concept of midnight, and then you suddenly find yourself downing shots of Jack Daniels and Ubering home after midnight feeling exceptionally considerate for waiting until you got out of the Uber and into the bathroom before puking…
Yeah, you’re not gonna make the morning run.
Because your 44 year old body is not built for post-celebration functioning.
You’re not 19 anymore.
You’re gonna need the whole damn day to stop the world from spinning out of control and the nausea to subside.
But I needed to get to my momma’s house for the traditional cabbage and noodles she made. ‘Cause ya girl needs all the luck she can get going into 2019. So, as the sun was setting, I decided to chance the roadside vomiting and run to my momma’s house to get my food.
Night runs really are the best anyway. Peaceful.
And a little risky.
Lots of wild animals and creaking tree limbs.
Got to my momma’s house and my dad handed me three containers of food. To carry back with me. On my run.
He did offer to drive me back home.
Runners don’t drive home.
(I did kind of expect him to object a little more about letting his little girl run home in the dark alone. Except that I’ve done enough stupid shit over the last few years that he’s probably given up on objecting to anything I do. Plus, he was a runner. He knows. Runners run.)
I was planning to get a nice 3 miles total in. But around the 2 mile mark, I was starting to smell the cabbage and noodles leaking out the sides of the containers. And there was rustling in the woods. A predator eyes on me. And I was feeling like I might be just drawing them in with the cabbage smells. And running was just provoking them more. And for reals, I was running down the road at night carrying three containers of food out in front of me like I’d just stolen a stereo system out of someone’s car.
I settled for a 2 mile run and a half mile cool down walk over getting eaten by a chupacabra or questioned by the police. Running Partner likes when I do cool down walks anyway. Something about healing and avoiding further injury…
So, I managed to kick 2019 off with a run, even if it was last minute. And pretty half-assed.
And I get to eat the lucky cabbage and noodles. Because most of it stayed in the containers.
And I did thoroughly enjoy the celebrating last night.
I’m just not real clear about some of the things that were on my phone this morning. Like, why I was Googling Jean Claude Van Damme in the middle of the night…