Instep vs The Arch

The pollen-laden air beckoned deceptively. I felt the call.

I mined out my running shoes from the dank depths of my closet and tied them on. I found some old jogging shorts and squeezed myself into them. Then I googled 'how many minutes should you stretch before running?' The answers varied. I touched my toes a few times.

I couldn't find my sports bra and I hate it anyway, so I mined a rather constrictive minimizer from the dank depths of my closet and tied it on.

I set off.

I returned home and peed and drank some water.

I set off again.

I decided that I would do some fast walking through my neighborhood until I got to the lake, whereupon I would commence the running.

I clipped along through my neighborhood, the very picture of a fast-walking, motivated, soft-bodied suburban mom until I got to the lake.

There is nothing like running to make you realize just how much unwanted jiggle you have been totally and blissfully unaware.

I jogged a few steps and became acutely aware of my love-handles. I jogged a few more and realized that a constrictive minimizer that's just a little too small was NOT going to serve me well.

I crossed my arms over my chest in hopes of curtailing the frenzied bouncing which was starting to seem pornographic.

I jogged haphazardly onward, rapidly metamorphosing into a jiggling, bouncing, panting, red-faced abomination; single-mindedly careening toward a vague destination on the other side of the lake. Dogs were barking, children were crying, ducks were quacking and waddling frantically but wisely out of the way of this heaving monstrosity who, at this point, couldn't have stopped herself from running them ruthlessly over even if she'd wanted to.

The Burning. The Burning.

I eventually had to stop so I could assess just how much air I wasn't able to take into my lungs due to the constrictive minimizer. I also discovered that my running shoes are not really designed for those unfortunate individuals with pronated feet. I was sweating mysteriously harder under one armpit than the other and the pollen-laden air which had chirped so seductively to me had now deposited its allergens directly into my sinus cavities.

No doubt serious runners will give me their spastic, cheerful encouragement (while admiring their taut, toned buttocks in their special mirrors), but I will stoically ignore them and plod on at my own bitter pace.