Finger Pointing, Part II

This morning Nick and I got up at 5:30 (yes, AM) and did "hills".

It was 23 degrees when we started and the cold was shocking at first. Funny how quickly we are spoiled by 30 degrees. We ran for a mile and a half at a warm-up pace, then sprinted up a hill for 40 seconds and walked back down (which we repeated 7 times), then ran the mile and a half back home at a regular pace. The first three sprints were not so bad, I actually made it farthest up the hill on the third sprint. The fourth sprint reminded me that I am not actually a runner. The fifth and sixth sprint left me gasping for air and thinking that it would just be much faster to put a plastic bag over my head and breathe deep. I have to admit that I only walked three quarters of the way down the hill to start the seventh sprint so that I could end at the top. The run home felt like I was dragging lead legs through the snow and across the ice.

And I loved every minute of it.

On my quest to answer the question of how I became a running nut, I continue to point the finger of blame on those around me. It is much more satisfying than self exploration.

Guilty Party #3: Gale
Around the time I was exposed to Body for Life and innocently compared to an exceedingly obese woman by my daughter, my mother's friend Gale came for a visit. Gale and my mom are old school chums. This means Gale is the same age as my mom which would be too old for me to mention without permission. Gale has better legs than I do.

Gale's legs are not to blame for my running, however. I blame her slide show. She had just returned from an absolutely fabulous trek through France - thirty days of WALKING an old pilgrimage trail with some companions.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Way_of_St._James

She had lovely photos of her trip as well as a montage of photos from a rafting trip she had been on recently in the states. Her plan was to rest at my parents for a week and then head off on another outdoor adventure. I enjoyed Gale quite a bit; she has a sparkling personality and is an amusing storyteller.

When Gale left, I couldn't help but think about retirement with Nick. We have both said we would like to travel and find adventure. I realized that retirement planning was going to mean a heck of a lot more than a 401k, IRA and stocks...hang on for the cheesy analogy...I was going to have to invest in myself.

Told you it was cheesy.