 That Freedom Sun |
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When I moved to Florida in the fall of '98, other than grading papers and making lesson plans, I had nothing to do after school. My neighbor and co-worker from the English department was about my age, in tremendously good shape, and dragged my ass out walking every day. We walked in circles around our apartment complex parking lot and later moved to walks in the pretty neighborhood park nearby. We became friends, and I liked walking a lot. Eventually, I started jogging. I jogged alone because she joined the gym and I started to really love it. I felt very safe in the neighborhood and so I jogged with a walkman, listening to Lauryn Hill and Liz Phair and Dave Matthews and the radio and mix tapes. When I moved in with another co-worker in January who lived in a gorgeous neighborhood with lakes and trees and hills, I started jogging there. And it was just something I did, every day after school and every Saturday and Sunday. I loved the way it made me feel. I felt strong and alive. I even ran in the Maguire's 5K (followed by green beer), something I thought I would never be able do in a million years. I didn't run fast or with any semblance of grace, but I ran. I moved back here that summer and ran every day with Jeannie's beagle for the six weeks before I started working. We would go four miles around the LSU lakes, and it was fun. I felt like I was carrying the best part of who I'd become in Florida back home with me. But gradually, I started working, and I stopped running, and I got back to my sedentary, lazy-assed ways. Lately I've been feeling pretty gross about my body. It might be thinner than it used to be, but I've packed 8 pounds back on since the spring o' thinness and despair. I am in horrendously bad shape. I need to get it moving, and I have been half-assedly swimming and yogasizing, but not really the way I should be. I read about Erin's TRIUMPHS and I know I want to do something to get myself into better shape. Shelley spins her heart out, Maryelizabeth is still sweating like a pro even though she's sweating for two, and my sister can do triathlons and marathons and hike in national parks like nobody's business. I keep telling myself that I want to be more like them, that I want to take charge of my health, but I never do. Jeannie just sent me an email about a 5K for ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) in November, and I will be goddamned if I don't run in it. I honestly doubt that I have what it takes to run for more than five minutes at a time right now, but five minutes is five minutes and even though the only running shoes are the ones I bought five years ago and now use to wear when mowing the grass, they're better than nothing. My dad's mother died of ALS at sixty-four when I was in the fourth grade. She was a foxy lady, and she should have lived a longer life, and what a horrible way to die. So I'm going to start running. Slowly and clumsily, I am sure, but it's a start. If anything, I can do it for her.
2002: None
2001:
2000: 1999: None
© Copyright 2003 elb |
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