One Last Run

Pun intended on my title. I wish my hip would allow me to run. Will it ever again? However, Sara invited me to the gym today for the final workout of the year. I donned my new running britches and was ready to go. I have a note near the end of my blog about those new britches. Make sure to keep reading.

Switched up workout on elliptical today for a 30-minute workout. It was an interval training that alternated easy to difficult every two minutes. I cranked up my Crime Junkie podcast and entered the zone. I was smiling as it started, but my hair looked at a little rough.

I like watching everyone around me and wonder their story. There was a couple working out together in front of me. I saw an elderly man walking laps above me. And young, full of piss and vinegar, guys lifting. I make up scenarios in my head and even try to guess their professions.

About halfway through my workout, I glance over at Sara and she’s hard at it. If she knew I took this picture, she would kill me. So let’s not tell her. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. No..really. She’s the member and I’m a guest. I really wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. (I crack myself up!) Seriously, Sara is my Sarapy. She’s been a true ride or die friend for 23 years. Blessed to have her, even though she may tend to question why she’s still friends with me and my insanity.

I had a #fas moment during my workout. What is #fas? FAS (Flat Ass Squirrel) So, one of my friends always said I have the mind of a squirrel, that it is all over the place with thoughts. And I have a flat ass. Well…duh! I have a lot going on in that noodle. Anytime either of us (primarily me!) would change subject without warning, we would get confused on the conversation. Now when we are talking, whether on IM at work, or in text, and we are changing immediate thoughts, without hesitation we start that message off with #fas. Both of us know immediately we are changing subject. This blog has suddenly taken a true #fas moment. I can’t help it. During my workout, I looked down and thought my nails looked so pretty. My nails don’t grow often. I catch myself admiring them when they are. Let’s pause for a moment…my mom would love it, too, because the purple sparkles by her wedding band.

Back to the workout. I saw a young girl flying on the treadmill. I miss my moments on the treadmill, and even running, in general. I miss that feeling of getting that runner’s high. At the same time, as I’m aging, my hip pain far exceeds that runner’s high. Wisdom has come with age. In my younger days, I would run through the pain. Makes me wonder if I am in this boat because of my stubbornness. Nah…couldn’t possibly be my fault.

The thirty minutes really did fly by. However, I had an ‘oh $hit’ moment. I’m thankful I had on a bigger, longer tank top. Back in 2013, I had one of my fastest races, maybe my fastest. I wore new running britches in which I had never worn before. As I started running the 5K, I could feel a tug of my britches falling down. For nearly three miles, I fought hanging on to them to not expose my flat ass, amongst other lady parts. How I kept that pace is beyond me. When I was within a block of the finish line, I kicked it in gear and finished at record time for me, like under 25 minutes. I deleted the original and only kept a photoshopped version because the crack of my booty was in plain sight for all to see. I didn’t care. I placed first in my division! I’ll do almost anything for a medal.

Back to today, I kept feeling that same pull down of my britches. I was so worried. I knew there was an older man riding a stationary bike behind me. I did not want to give that poor guy a heart attack. AND thankfully my shirt was long enough to cover it up.

Workout was fun. I was still smiling at the end. I noticed today my muscle definition is coming back from my weight loss. Might be hard to tell in my picture. If I added weightlifting back into workouts, I could gain that definition again. Not sure if I’m ready for that investment! 2021 is near…maybe that will be a resolution, even though I’m not big on resolutions.

Until then….peace out, Trout!

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