Thursday, December 30, 2010
So for the last few days, it has been just me and my ipod shuffle running the streets of my neighborhood and beyond, and I have enjoyed this. Because of this change in schedule I've had more time to cool down and stretch after each run and since my days are completely at my disposal, I've taken more time to do these things.
I'm not sure why or how it started, but when I run with my ipod, this cool down session usually involves a dance move or two. Nothing major, just moving my feet to the beat after finishing a good (or bad ) run. I'm thrilled to be a runner. I'm grateful for the run I just had. So, I do a little dance in the streets of my neighborhood, sometimes jiving all the way to my front porch and into the house.
Yesterday afternoon I went for a 6 mile run. It had not been the best run ever due to tired legs and a strong headwind, but I was glad to be out anyway. With my favorite tunes playing in my ears, I did a little jig up to the driveway and then bobbed my head to the beat while I stretched.
I came inside to an empty house, so I knew Jason was still out on his run. Since it was just me and Chance, I sang at the top of my lungs the last lines of the current song on my ipod while sitting down at the computer to download my Garmin and look at my splits. When the song was finished, I turned off my ipod while I wrote a little note about the day's run in my running log.
And then I heard a noise coming from my bedroom. Jason was home after all. I started laughing as I walked to our bedroom, "You are home!" I said, stating the obvious. He just grinned at me and started singing the lines of the song I'd belted out when I thought I was alone. I doubled over laughing. It was a tad embarrassing, but he was my husband, after all, who had vowed to love me through thick and thin, through off key notes and dramatic song finishes.
I confessed to ending most of my runs that way when I came into an empty house with only Chance as my audience. Of course, Chance usually comes running in with a concerned look upon his brow...as if I'm being harmed. I'm not. I'm just singing. Loud and proud.
For the rest of the night we joked about it, and when Jason would break out into a mimicking version of my song, we would both start laughing. No doubt about it, I was busted. It probably won't change anything, though. There's nothing like a jig and a song after a good (or bad) run, and despite my brief moment of embarrassment, I'll probably continue celebrating each run with both.