That's a direct quote, said about me yesterday. This morning I am saying it about myself. Let me start by stating that I am a couch potato. More accurately I am a lawn chair potato(in the summer months anyway). The only real exercise I get is the constant motion of caring for my family, and that isn't the right kind of exercise. Beer curls also do not seem to help with the biceps the way I would like.
Mr. Weasel on the other hand tries to make a point to take a run or go for a bike ride. He often encourages me to join him and once in a while I do. I hadn't done so for months.
Yesterday however, was one morning that I did join him. Now this was not a grueling kind of run. He had scaled things back so as to accommodate my lesser state of fitness. The run felt good and was a good start to the day.
Immediately after we finished we had to hurry and get Eldest Weasel to Cross Country practice. We decided to both go and stay until practice was finished. We took the time to meander around the course and trek the path through the woods. The cool shade of the woods and the soft, matted ground brought back memories of Once Upon a Time when I used to run Cross and how much fun it was. I could not help myself and wound up running the path. By the time we left the path the team was finished with warm ups and ready to run.
Being a holiday, not all of the coaches were able to be there. They needed more help monitoring the teens who run by groups according to pace. Sure we'll help out! We're here anyway, not a big deal. All we had to do was keep an eye around different parts of the course and watch for injuries or stragglers. That was until there was a kid who was getting cramps and couldn't keep up with his group. The coach was trying to keep an eye on him and keep with the rest of group simulataneously, not an easy feat, so I was asked to run with the straggler, Mr. Weasel had been smart enough to have changed into sandals before we left home.
This kid was struggling, but still pushing through. The pace wasn't too much and I still felt pretty good. Fast forward 5 minutes and now I'm the one who could use a little extra help. He's getting cramps and running through the pain and still able to be kicking my butt. I managed to push through for a little while, but gave up the second he was once again in plain view of the coaches. I had nothing left and definitely wasn't looking too cool.
|These kids can run|
|And so can this one|
The rest of the day was spent back in my lawn chair doing beer curls, much more my pace.
This morning I was trying to remember the license plate of the Mack truck that had hit me as I woke up. Even my eyelids hurt. Walking down the stairs was an exercise of epic proportions. The more I move the better I feel, but am not looking forward to tomorrow morning when Mr. Weasel has vowed to drag me from my bed and force me back into my running shoes. Ugh, what a maroon!