Running From the Big O

For a brief period, about seven years ago, I ran on a regular basis. I didn’t have a goal in mind and I never ran in organized runs. I had a friend who had a yellow lab and the dog liked to run. My friend could not run with him, so I did. I ran for about a year, several times a week. Thinking about how sad the dog would be if I didn’t run with him kept me going. Guilt is a good motivator. Dogs are good at bringing on guilt. They have those eyebrows and those big brown eyes.

One evening, after I had run for several months, I was running along, minding my own business, thinking mindless, running thoughts, when I felt something weird begin to happen. It was the Big O. It took me about eight steps, from beginning to end, and it went like this:

1. !
2. No
3. Way
4. Oh
5. My
6. Freak
7. Kin'
8. God

Now, like a lot of women, this isn’t something that usually happens to me without quite a bit of preparation, both mental and physical. But I hadn’t been thinking naughty thoughts. My hands were out in the open, where they belonged. This came (ahem) out of the clear blue sky.

After the first time it happened, it began to happen more frequently until finally it happened every time I ran. Then, it began to happen earlier and earlier in my runs, until finally I could only run about five blocks before . . . (!) . . . jeez louise.

You may think this would be a good thing. And it might have been, except that immediately after it happened each time, I was worn completely out. Ready to be back at the house. Ready to climb into bed for a full night’s sleep.

All these years later, when I began this marathon quest, I worried that I would have the "problem" again. There’s no way I could complete a marathon if I had to stop and lie down every five or six blocks.

So, I decided to try. Unlike the time before, I’m in a relationship which satisfies me. I’m older. I thought that maybe it won’t happen this time.

And, so far, it hasn’t.

I’ll keep you posted.