Bad runs happen. But at least they happen. A run means you can move and sweat and release endorphins on a day when you’re struggling to stay positive. Like today on a Tuesday. Second day of the work week. The last Tuesday of the school year.
Today I forgot about a morning class event. It rained, thundered, lightninged and rearranged the afternoon of school activities. I mixed up my words like an ambitious DJ. Muffins for mittens. T-shirts for teachers. I kept waking up the night before afraid of oversleeping and wondering if I put every grade in the grade book.
Today was the day I felt my anxiousness creep in. The tension in my shoulders. The “you are a horrible person” lie.
But after school, I decide to run with my brother. By now the rain had stopped. I ran half a mile and decided my heel hurt. Thirty second walk. I ran again. Uphill. Got tired. I thought, I should have stretched.
Five minutes later, two dogs scared the living day lights out of me. It’s a country road, and I didn’t expect to see anything but the extremely bored cows gawking at us. The owner of the dog drove by smiling and waving.
Another hill. I walked. Then ran, but the dogs were back and one decided he would like to jump on me. No, thanks. I stopped running so I wouldn’t trip over him and further damage my aching heel. The driver passed by again mouthing something about “They won’t hurt you.”
Okay, fine. I wanted to listen to Migos Stir-fry at the highest volume my ears could handle. Or Andy Mineo’s I Ain’t Done. The dogs needed to move on and jump someone else. Hopefully, in a better mood.
I turned around. All downhill. But I walked some. A half mile to the end it began to rain again. According to my Fitbit, I ran 2 1/2 miles. Not great for me, but I felt better. At least I ran. And tomorrow is another day.