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The waste of time you're looking for.

This was always going to be the hard part.

May 22, 2018

When I was a wee little Lizy my mom used to do this thing called running errands. It was when my four hundred siblings and I would pile into our minivan and Mom would go places. Or, we’d stay home while she did Very Important Things and inevitably when she got back I had to stop playing Barbies and help carry in like eleventy thousand groceries.

Running errands was a very grown up thing to do.

Now I’m a grown up and I had a rare morning off and things needed to get done. Most importantly I had to run a lot of miles because I told everyone I’m training for a marathon and now I’ve got to. But I wasn’t prepared to run in the humidity and my only pair of running shorts-not-pants were at the bottom of my laundry. I decided to run a marathon when it was still cold and I could run in pants. That’s not an option anymore and no matter how many times I tell myself “I lived in the sub Sahara goddamnit,” I still don’t run when it’s too humid out.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve ran maybe a total of six miles since the half marathon and I’m worried I’m losing valuable training. It’s humid, I’m in a rut, and I much prefer to spend my only free time snuggling the dog.

So I spent the day shopping for more running shorts and also running other errands. I bought a hair dryer. I bought eggs. I got home and found eggs already in my fridge so I was obliged to make devilled eggs then tell the story yet again about how the beagle once ate twenty of my devilled eggs. See? Running errands just like Mom.

So I’m in this rut and I knew this would be the hardest part. I’m in the home stretch now with the half marathon under my belt and the full marathon only two (OH MY GOD) months away. I knew the heat would get to me and I knew I’d want to tap out at the end. I also knew snuggling the dog would be enticing.

That’s where I am. This is hard. But I’m running errands so I have more running shorts so I can stop coming up with excuses to not run when the air feels like a bathtub. Oy, I now see why not everyone just ups and runs a marathon. I mean I logically understood the concept before, but now I get it.

But, if I make an honest as heck comparison of my emotions then to my emotions now, it’s still not as bad as getting interrupted while playing Barbies.