Runnin Over 40

This past year I’ve let myself go. Well, more like 8 months but I’m rounding up. I discovered, for the first time, what it is to be truly lazy and eat whatever I want.

I didn’t sign up for any runs in the past year except a 5k, and had the Disneyworld 10k in February. In the past, I had done the Disney Challenges, which was 10k one day and a 1/2 marathon the next, which was enough to keep the extra pounds at bay and get me three, THREE, medals.

With the 10k, I barely trained. Lazy. And, as always after the Disney runs, I stopped running. In the past it was to let my toenails heal and take some time off. This time? Well….

I didn’t want the discomfort anymore. I wanted to sleep in on the weekends. I didn’t want to worry about what I ate for dinner.

And so…I got into a bad, lazy habit and now I’m fat. For me.

I’m my defense, I did have to prep my house for selling, plus had a full-time job, a side gig job, and two large dogs to entertain and exercise.

I could have worked in some crunches though.

I have also loaded a trailer, quit my job of thirteen years, drove across the country with said dogs, unloaded same trailer and set up house.

There is still time to do some push-ups. Especially since I am unemployed.

It has been years since I’ve been able to run in shorts. Only leggings for me, which was terrible in South Florida but I think will be ok in South Dakota. Still, I would like the option.

I have enjoyed the luxury of being chunky: saying yes to all foods, over eating and laying about, sleeping in late, napping. I’ve dug myself quite a hole to get myself out of, effort-wise and attitude-wise.

And you know what else? So many women my age are overweight, it’s no big thing. Totally acceptable. Like, when I was 20 it wasn’t ok to be heavy. Now, mid-life? Totally fine.

Damn these 40s.

Shut Up, Pants!

Did I quit running? I’m not sure if I did. I ran and ran for four years, and now? Meh.

It started with a Super Spartan, then Disney Princess runs and Star Wars runs – half marathons, 10ks, a couple of 5ks in there to keep me honest. But now….

I know I need something to train for. I can’t just run to run. With my impending move to a much higher altitude, I’m also intimidated. I have low blood pressure and heartbeat already – I’m afraid I’ll pass out somewhere along the road in a new town.

I can see it now, me laying on the side of a country road, slightly concussed, calling my husband.

“Come get me. I’m concussed.”

“Where are you?” He would say, already in the car.

“I don’t know.”

And woe is me if I had our cattle dog with me, his baby.

Excuses, you say? I agree. There is nothing easier than being middle-aged and lazy.

I have started to stalk online a running club in my new town, thinking it will get me running and social (I am terribly introverted and so is my husband. Peas in a pod!).

However, I have noticed that my excess chub isn’t melting away like it used to. Before I could just use the power of thought, but now, post 40, it seems things have changed. At least that’s what my pants keep saying, and boy are they vocal!

“Lunges. Remember lunges?”

“When’s the last time you did a sit up?”

“A lap around the block wouldn’t hurt ‘ya. Take the cattle dog.”

Pants are nags. Not like tops.

The tight armholes in my blouses are more like “Well, this is interesting”, and my jersey tees just talk behind my back with my bra, something about doing push-ups and maybe dips. Jersey tees are kind of passive-aggressive come to think of it.

The bra? She’s just doing her best. Definitely not an instigator.

Maybe I will. Maybe I will start running again, just to shut them up. Stupid clothes. At least my leggings and tech tees are supportive. They’ve been clamoring to get out of the drawer anyway.

Aforementioned baby.