Perseus and IPods

I hate running. Hate it. But, oh, how I love it. Like everything else in my life, it affects my jewelry. Because, really, isn't everything we are and everything we do an amalgam of the choices we make and how we choose to live our lives? As I slump home at the end of the day, I'm not sure I could do it without running and the lovely endorphins that come from it. Sometimes, in my job, I feel like I see more darkness than I can handle. At these times, I fight extra hard to balance the dark with things like blueberry pancakes on Saturday morning, long hugs, longer runs, and of course, some awesome jewelry.

My runs usually start out with me salking (sobbing and talking at the same time) as I roll around the floor:

Me (full on salking): "I don't want to go, I don't! Don't make me!"
Ryan (looking up from his IPad): I'm not making you do anything.
Me: I'm not talking to you (a little snappish).
Ryan: Then who are you talking to?
Me: Never mind, (as I throw myself up off the floor and finish tying my shoes).

I push and click around on my IPod until it's ready to go, then I boop and beep on my watch until it is set. Finally, I have absolutely no more excuses to procrastinate and I push myself out the door.

The First Few Minutes:

Okay, this feels good. Not too windy, not to hot. The Killers are playing in my ears. Here we go.

The Middle Part:

Getting a little warmer now, push up my sleeves, use the sweat on my forehead to slick back my stupid, stupid bangs. WHY DID I CUT BANGS?! (irritation and irrational anger are starting to increase)

The Late Middle Part:

Okay, it's really hot. Long sleeve t-shirt was not the way to go. Just breathe, my side hurts, why is it hurting? I think there's a fold in my sock...stop looking for excuses to stop. Listen to your music. What is this song anyway? The Happy Elf? (The Happy Elf is a Christmas song by Harry Conick Jr...it's not even an old song, it's new, written some time in the 90's...so, just absorb that information for a bit...). Why did Ryan load my IPod with Christmas music? It's been three years, why is it so hard to delete tracks from this thing? Skip this song, and...oh good, Garth Brooks's The Dance. Nothing makes me want to run like slow, sad country music. I need a new IPod, maybe I should throw this one in the duck pond. (irritation and anger has reached its peak)

The Last Part:

Okay, another mile, and there's only one hill in the last mile. I can do this! (irrational happiness) Yesssss, Like A Prayer is playing now. This song makes my feet sprout wings, just like Perseus. Here comes the choir, just like a dream...la la la...

Okay, pushed it a little hard, now I feel like I'm dying. Madonna just gets me so excited! Whew, sweating, pounding heart, extreme irritation, lots of anxiety. If I were to talk to another mental health professional during the last mile of my run, I would totally meet the criteria for a panic disorder. Wait, I'm rounding the corner, there's my house! Lengthen my stride, I don't even notice that Celtic Christmas music is banging away, I don't even care! Past the mailboxes, neighbors dogs are barking annnnnd...I'm home. Beep, boop, beep, (fiddling with my watch), huh...45 seconds faster than yesterday.

Here, I finally notice the endorphins coursing through me, everything looks bright, my neighbor's barking dogs sound like angels, and my victory lap...I mean my cool down feels like floating. My muscles are warm and tired, and I decide that I like my bangs just fine. I love this feeling. I love knowing that with some well-timed self torture I can pretty much handle anything. Running makes me better. Lots of things make me better, and I am so happy that I have started to figure out what they are.