Day Five - Non Stop Fun! Or Not...

Greetings from Sweatsville.  Not "sweats" like the comfy, relaxed attire reserved for weekends, nap time and camping.  "Sweats" as in "having the sweats", salty, eye-stinging, liquid funk coming out of your pores before, during or after strenuous or anxiety producing activity (coincidentally, for me running fits into both of those categories).  Generally, I am not a big "sweater".  Obviously I am not a large, cozy, knitted garment worn in chilly weather.  I mean that I do not have a history of sweating more than a damp brow, even as a kid running and playing in the suburban streets of NJ in 95 degree weather with 98% humidity.  I come from a family that is divided as far as "profuse sweaters" and "delicate sweaters", and we used to tease one of my siblings, who shall remain nameless, that she was the lucky recipient of my dad's armpits from the treasure trove of DNA.  Lucky girl!  However, having taken on this whole "getting in shape" thing has apparently turned me into a bit of a sweater (still not the knitted thing...).   I find this fascinating and gross all at the same time.  Maybe it's my body pushing out all the toxins from years of cardiovascular neglect and lots of cookies (notice I did not say "too many cookies" because I still cling to the falsehood that there is no such thing...).  Maybe it's because my body is having to work harder than it has in a long time to stay upright and conscious while moving at breakneck speed (indulge me - it's early and I'm sweating).  I'm certain it's a combination of both.  

No droopy pants or gang of menacing slugs to report from the road today, but I have a nugget of exciting news.  Well, exciting for ME anyway, and I guess since this is my blog, it's all about me.  I saw my friend on the corner of road that begins the long, slow incline I so deeply despise.  We waved and said "Hello!" and I boogied on my way up the hill.  I employed my usual tactic of head down, one foot in front of the other on my journey.  My husband and I were discussing our different strategies for conquering this incline yesterday and he said he mentally sets little goals for himself along the way (OK, make it to the stop sign, then the driveway, then the green house, etc.) and then he's done.  I prefer to go on my way in denial that there's far more road ahead of me than I care too look at, so I just don't look.  Simple.  Today, I glanced up a few times when I had a pretty good idea of where I was based on the parts of asphalt I have memorized by looking down over these past few days of running.  Up the steepest part of the incline, to the cross street, past the walking path... getting close to the church driveway - my arch nemesis.  As of yet, I have not made it past this driveway without stopping to walk, even if I just walk for 30 seconds, it's still stopping in my mind.  I pushed past the driveway, lungs burning, but determined.  Almost to the crest of the hill - MADE IT! 

I so badly wanted to stop and walk there, convincing myself I had already pushed past my mini-goal, so it was OK.  I pressed on to the home stretch, past the school, into the neighborhood, down the Big Dipper and into my little suburban oasis.  NON-STOP FUN!! OK, not really, because it wasn't all that fun having an internal dialogue about stopping, being a weenie for stopping, sucking it up, not only meeting but exceeding a small goal that would pay big dividends in the self-confidence department, etc..  The fun came when I hit my street, jogged up the driveway and hit the stop on the watch - 22:21!  Can I get a witness from the congregation?!?!  THAT part WAS fun.  Now I just have to remember how fun that feels when I begin at the bottom of that incline tomorrow.  For my mental fortitude, and a little bit of irony (OK, a LOT of irony), I will name that long, slow incline Mt. Everest.  In my own little world, I did climb a peak today, literally and figuratively ;)  See you on the mountain!