I got up early today to do the running. Yep, ran around Lake Harriet in a slightly less ridiculous outfit.

Here was my internal dialogue:

“Wow, here I am down at the lake before 7:00. Wow. I’m dedicated. I’m going to slowly jog this lake like its never been slowly  jogged before. Am I crazy? I mean, I’m up early! Suited up and jogging! And it’s kinda cold out… Am I dressed warmly enough? Sun’s coming up so I’ll probably heat up. You have to be super dedicated to do this. Wow, I’m walking fast to warm up…”

Guy runs by me and says, “Good pace!”

“WTF? Good pace? I’m walking. Well, I’m walking fast. Probably he’s never seen such a fast, well-paced walker. Wow, I’m out here doing this! With all the other runners. I’m really putting myself out there! Way to go, me!”

And then I jogged past an old man with a CANE, slowly walking around the lake and looking out for the ice. An old guy with a cane. On ice. And I suddenly felt very foolish. What I was doing was not all that special. He was up and out and caning his way around the lake with fierce determination before the sun was all the way up.

“Good morning!” the old man said. He was very chipper and his face was very red from the cold.

“Good morning,” I said.

And then I stopped congratulating myself and concentrated on the running.

Last Sunday I began my latest running campaign. I’ve talked about running here before and how I’m somewhat of a Special Needs runner. But I still feel compelled to run. Mostly it’s because I feel the need to be outside, alone, not thinking.

And it’s easy to not think about anything when I’m struggling to breathe. From the moment I start running I really only have one thought, which is, “When can I stop running?”

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I’m going to get more serious about running.

Am I a runner now? No. Have I ever been a distance runner? No. In elementary school, I was the fastest girl in my class but the competition was not stiff. I ran track in 7th, 8th and 9th grades but I was only out there because everyone else was doing it and because the girls’ team often came into contact with the boys’ team while practicing and at meets. For meets I ran shorter distances. Not the all-out sprints (I was no longer the fastest girl in the class) but the 200 or 400 meter. Stuff like that. I’m not sure I ever placed in a race.

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I made some half-assed promise to myself that I would “get more exercise.” So this is the workout I’m calling The Reebles Bad Day Workout. It’s just enough effort to make you feel like you did something and to work out the unseemly aggression you’re feeling after spending the day with complete morons. But it won’t over-tax you. There’s no running, biking, boxing, etc. You don’t even have to go outside; perfect for days when there’s a 40-mile-per-hour wind and blowing rain.

Here’s what you need: tennis shoes, some clothes you can move in, some 5 lb. weights (heavier if you are buff or not completely weak in the arms and unable to do even one pull-up).

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