I’m getting married in October. The effort to improve myself in order to look as good as it is possible for me to look covers a lot of ground. There is much to improve, as much has lain neglected for many, many months. There is the skin-hair-and-nails aspect, which constitutes a lovely reason to schedule appointments, and to try and purchase new products. Then there is the effort that extends to my body shape. Specifically, toning up the arm muscles so I can wear a strapless dress without fear of scaring people with my current flabby-arm look. I’ve never had great upper body tone or strength. It’s been rather pathetic, to put it nicely. I’ve recently started lifting weights three times a week to get those babies into shape. I can see the muscles developing, I feel stronger, but what’s the deal with the lingering fat on top of said new muscle? I’ll give it some time, but eventually I want to see that gone.
I have also added running twice a week. I love running. I love everything from the way it makes me feel, to the way it shapes my butt, to the way it clears my head while I take in the scenic riverfront and think about nothing in particular. It’s nice. What I don’t love is the way I feel after missing a run. Today, for example, was my first run in a week. I had missed last week’s second run and consequently I felt a little tired but ready to go nonetheless. As I got going, I felt all awkward and gangly, like I was all over the place. It was like Phoebe in that episode of Friends where she goes running with Rachel. Phoebe is all splayed legs and arms in a special style that can only be dubbed “flailing”. When Rachel sees this crazy form of Phoebe’s, she ditches her. Rachel then proffers many excuses why she can’t go running with Phoebe again, only to be caught running on her own one day. The episode continues in predictable fashion: the hurt feelings, a few funny jokes, and by the end, all is well. I can’t say that I blame Rachel for lying, I just wish I hadn’t felt like Phoebe today.
Although there was no real flailing that happened, it just felt like it wasn’t quite as smooth and comfortable as it usually is. I managed to finish my route, where I run at a comfortable pace most of the way, then stride out as I near the end and sprint the last 75 meters or so. I’m like a trail horse that way: I know my route well that I get excited to finish, so I speed up toward the end because I know the feed bucket awaits!
I’ll not miss my second run again, if I can help it. I hate missing a day, you feel like you’re starting all over again. I don’t want to start over, I want to progress. I am hard at work to look good this fall, baby.
At this time I am reminded of the wise words of Dolly Parton’s character in Steel Magnolias: “It takes some effort to look like this.”
I have to say it again, I love running, but I also love lying on a table while a woman applies various potions and lotions to my face for an hour, and rubs my hands and feet. Both are worthy inclusions to the routine.