I actually have a lot to say about this. First of all, despite what anybody says, I do have the right to cross this off my list. If you observe closely, it says “Start jogging.” And start I did. And I stopped, too. After about 3-4 minutes. What happened to me? I used to be able to run a mile in 8 minutes. Okay, so maybe that’s not super fast, or even the best time in the world. But at least it was more than 3 minutes and it was a mile, not just the circumference of a park. But my glory days are over. I haven’t run the mile since freshman year of high school.
So obviously, I am way out of shape. Three minutes of this makes me feel like throwing up, but I know that I should be working out. That’s what everyone should do. RIGHT? And it seems as if everybody runs. They all put on their sweatpants and running shoes, hook on their earphones and simply “go for a run.” As if it was something they decided to do five minutes ago because they were bored.
“Oh, I’m going for a run.”
And then they proceed to jog through paved trails, with birds chirping as they pass. Going for a run is fun! It’s so fun, that sometimes couples decide that it’s a great way to strengthen their relationships. They go for a run together.
Okay, so let’s look at this from my point of view. First of all, I would never use the phrase “go for a run.” I would never simplify such a grueling task in four words. I would never make it seem like I just decided it a minute ago because I had nothing else to do. I’ve been anticipating the jog this morning for months! And I’ve been procrastinating it ever since then.
Second of all, when I finally do decide to go for a run, maybe I would start off strong. Running paved streets, enjoying the beautiful scenery. But about 3 minutes into it, I’d be doubled over, crawling on the baked pavement, sweat dripping from every pore of my body, hair falling limp on my forehead and nape, and crows cawing overhead, honing in on their prey. Oh yes, it would not be quite so magical.
And third of all, when I finally do decide to sacrifice my amazing life to be with another person, whenever that is, I would not run with him. If I ever do get a boyfriend, I want to be suave. I want to be sexy. Mysterious. Coy. I don’t want to wheeze, stop after THREE MINUTES, rest my hands on my knees, and motion for him to move on. Move on because I don’t have enough strength to even say the words. Move on because oh my gosh this is the most embarrassing thing ever, this is so unsexy. Move on and never come back because now I’m not as cool as you thought I was. So just go… *cough*…. go…. *wheeze*… go while I walk around in circles until I stop tasting blood in my throat.
So maybe I’ll attempt to jog again. Slowly. Jog for three minutes. Walk. Jog again. Slowly build up the strength to run for longer periods of time. Slowly. Until one day, when I have nothing else to do, I can turn to the man I’m sitting next to, simply say “I”m going for a jog.” I’ll put on my sweatpants and running shoes, hook on my earphones and run those magical paths myself. Because that’s what independent women do.