Low and Strong

Today at mass I told Sheila I went running in my old sneakers (see Bad Day). She told me that her boyfriend Federico says you have to wear proper running shoes or else you will get very badly injured. Federico, she said, won't even jog a few steps if he doesn't have his running shoes on, not even to beat cars when he's crossing the street. She said Federico is a very good runner and has the heart rate to prove it. "What's a good heart rate?" I asked her. "Low," she said, "and strong." I didn't like the way she smiled after she said this. So I reminded her, one friend to another, that Federico is going to die some day and that no one can do anything about it. "But hopefully," I added, "it won't happen too soon."

The Right Kind

I wore my red briefs when I ran the other day because it was a "first time." I always wear my red briefs when I do a new thing. Last year, for example, I wore them for my root canal, on the trampoline at Bob's, etc. But what is the right kind of underwear for my future runs? I understand and accept the running magazines' silence on this issue. Indeed, for many people not only the issue but that whole region is very private.

Bad Day

Being a runner is really a lot harder than they let on in the magazines.

I tried running in my old sneakers yesterday morning. When I was done my legs felt very tired, a new sensation for me. So I called in to work because I decided I needed a day of reflection to process the new feeling. Donny picked up. When I told him my plans, he said, "We're totally short and Clarissa's not back 'til Monday. You got to come in." And then, I don't know, I told Donny that he was insensitive and that I thought his mother might be a whore and that he, therefore, could well be the son of whoredom. Then Bill got on the line and told me I had to come in. So that was that. When I got in Donny came right over to my station, stuck his finger into the soft part of my chest, and told me that if I ever said something like that again he would "fucking kill me." After that happened I mostly played with my keys at my station until lunch. Then I went into the good lavatory to try to regroup. God was with me, because while people kept coming in, for some reason they didn't stay. I had the place to myself for nearly 45 minutes until the cleaning crew arrived and I had to get up off the floor.

History

At mass today I told my friend Sheila that I am becoming a runner. "Why?" she asked. "Because I want to cut down on negativity in my life," I said. "You?" Sheila replied "Fat chance!" Then she slapped my shoulder and said she was only teasing. I don't know why, but I was suddenly happy that a while back someone told me she got chlamydia once.

I'm a Runner

Kathleen, my therapist, tells me that taking regular exercise will cut down on what she calls my "suicidal ideation." So I've decided to become a runner. I'm making this blog to keep me accountable. Also I need some running shoes. I'm pretty sure the shoes are part of it.