Sunday, March 22, 2015

Run Away from Your Day
We take our dog Baileys, to the dog park at least once a week. We do it, not only because she loves, I mean LOVES it; as much as we do it for ourselves. She is much more manageable [and less devious] when she gets exercise, when she has a chance to run, jump out her excitement. She is always excited. She loves life, but she needs an outlet for all of that energy.

I am not unlike Baileys in that situation. After a particularly frustrating day, I went to my job at Curves and just ran on the recovery board. I don’t know if it was the “flight” response or just general angst; Probably a combination of both. I got some curious looks, because despite the instructions to “Change Stations Now,” I stayed put, just who knows where.

“I’m running away from my day, ” I explained. The ladies obliged by going around me. I think they understood.

Let me explain. I am not a runner. I'm sure i don't do it right [and I don't care]. I think I actually failed PE. But the feeling I got from the running was better than any drug could have given me. It got me wanting to do more of it, just as a release for my toxic energy.

After my evening there, I felt amazing. Not to mention, much more agreeable.

I decided to incorporate my “run” [it’s more of a half run half walk, with some stumbling mixed in], with Baileys. We used to do it at the cemetery when no one is looking. Except I became a casualty in her pursuit of a squirrel. I’m sure the motorists had quite an eyeful as I landed on the ground, with a thud, laughing.

I felt equally amazing after our run. The combination of laughter and running was incredibly therapeutic. 

So Baileys and I try to do at least one run/walk a day.  But we’ve moved to the tennis courts.

c. 2015

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