Running, Aging, and Prom (WHAT?)

Yesterday was a rest day for me. This morning I got up and went for a 3.5 mile run. It felt pretty darned good, until the last 3 blocks, when my iPod battery died (I forgot to put it on the charger it the last, uh, 4 or 5 times I used it). Then the symphony of complaints that had previously been suppressed by the rockin’ tunes started up. “My legs hurt. My muscles are tired. My armpits are chafing. We can stop now, that’s far enough…!” Things I hadn’t noticed at all with the music jamming were suddenly declaring that running was stupid and way too much work.

A concrete lesson for me that I listen to music when I’m running not just because I like the songs, but to distract and suppress the inevitable physical complaints. And that’s all they are, just whining from my body. The last 3 blocks were a lot more work than the 3+ miles before them because I had to do them in silence.

I was looking at some old pictures recently and I realized that I met my husband when I was at my absolute apex of elegance, beauty, and physical fitness. It’s a good thing he loves me for me because it’s been all downhill since then. I started to get sad and then I realized – that’s how it is for everyone! Us humans mostly meet when we’re young and fresh and vivacious, but the point is to find someone to grow old and slower with. I’m ok with that because I picked a good one despite the fact that at my peak of freshness I might accidentally have picked a shallow jerk who’d dump me as I inevitably aged and sagged. Whew! Bullet dodged!

But, not to be a total downer, yesterday I also pulled out my gown that I wore to my senior prom in high school in 1992. Why?? I hear you ask. Because I’m going to a theme party in early January where the theme is Prom! Prom! Prom! I’m going to wear my actual prom gown – it just needs to be taken in a bit. Interesting side note – it was custom made for me because in 1992 nobody was making nice prom dresses for plus-sized girls. I got to pick out the fabric and the pattern, although at that time I had zero sewing skills so I didn’t make it myself – paid a seamstress. I’m probably the only person on earth who needs to take in their clothes from high school. But hey, I can’t be doing everything wrong if I’m still smaller than I was then!

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