Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Running Rage

So, I might actually be 38 pounds down, not 28 pounds.

According to my "Stanford," my scale is at least ten pounds heavier than the one he has at home, and his is a fancy biometric scale that cost a bazillion dollars.

I'll keep my cheap version, but I am relishing the thought I might be down a bit more than I expected.

The clothes are falling off me, including my stretch lycra running skirt. When I started running in June, I felt like a sausage wearing a teeny, tiny tube top around my waist. Yesterday, I had to constantly tug at it to ensure my white bum didn't streak all of CBD.

I am about five pounds away from my coveted camel hair skirt, and probably 20 pounds away from my prom dress.

The one I wore in 1995.

Glory be.

Monday morning was a little bit more manic than usual. Unable to sleep beyond 5:20 a.m., I decided to forgo stewing in my skivvies and instead strapped on the sports bra and the Merrells.

Where some runners prefer to soak up the peace of their surroundings, my paces hinge entirely on what's playing on my iPod Shuffle.

The playlist usually includes some Lady Gaga and Ke$ha because I am unabashed about my adoration for all things POP.

My running tunes are also peppered with Weezer, Tom Petty, ELO, The Rolling Stones and Eminem.

What pushed me through the last half mile, though, was Courtney Love's wailing angst on Hole's Violet.



They get what they want. And they never want it again.

And then this blue-eyed, fair-haired chick pounded it out to some Tupac. Because California knows how to party (even though the video makes the Left Coast look like Beyond Thunderdome).



For me, running is very cathartic. Between the outdoor space, the crisp air and the constant drums and bass on my iPod, I'm able to mull on situations that unnerve me, opportunities I want to seize, and relationships that need some tending.

Some folks like to meditate to experience their moment of zen, others watch The Daily Show.

I run.

Last Sunday marked my longest run, at 4.5 miles (the last 1.5 was peppered with a few brief stretches of walking). This coming weekend, I'll put in five miles.

There's something very powerful about overcoming what appears to be a monumental challenge measured in miles.

And with each week, I push my body to do more, and my soul realizes it's just as powerful, too.

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Kate's Random Musings by Kate the Great is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

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