I worked out. It feels like someone has jabbed a screwdriver (flat head) through the top of my skull. This is because I had a sinus headache when I turned on the DVD. This is a present Jillian gave me.
I was talking to Mum this morning, and I said, "I think if I stick with this, I will get new shoes for working out!"
Mom replied, "Those ARE new shoes! I thought you bought those when you started that running thing a few years ago. Then you put them in your closet and never wore them!"
I nodded. This was completely true.
"They are covered with bloodstains," I said. "I cannot get the stains out."
Here is the story.
A few years ago, I decided that my constant run-down feeling was due to a lack of physical fitness. Yoga, I thought, was doing nothing at all. I was a wreck, and I needed to work out harder. Then I would feel better. Really the reason I felt sick was because my gallbladder was slowly dying inside me. But that is beside the point.
I decided I would become a runner. I had always admired runners. I still do.
I see them out and about in town, and they are in cute running clothes, and they are moving at a good pace, and they have ponytails and iPods and they look like they were in a Nike ad, and they just ran right off the billboard and into real life. And they don't seem to care what the temperature is, or that they're running when nothing is chasing them. They just run.
I have a friend, Jaren, and she ran for like 22 miles for FUN. It was her thing that she did! And then she saved me from falling of a mountain.
I bet the running helped her reflexes.
And then I was driving today, and I saw this girl out running. And then I ate lunch and an hour later, I saw her on my way back to work, and she was STILL RUNNING.
That is pretty impressive.
Anyway, I wanted that for me. I would have a runner's physique. I would have a running playlist. And so I ran.
First, I got shin splints. I get them whenever I try any workout that involves impact. But I kept going and tried all kinds of stretches and massage techniques that were supposed to help prevent shin splints. And then a giant semi truck almost mowed me down on the road, and I decided it was a good idea to be a cross country runner and stay far away from traffic of any kind, except maybe geese or fish swimming in the river alongside me.
Usually, geese or fish, they do not crush you under their tires.
So I ran. And after a week or so, I decided that washing all my socks repeatedly was cramping my style, so I bought new socks. I thought they were the same as my old socks, but they were not. These socks were shorter.
No biggie, I thought. The socks would not take away from the sheer awesomeness of my running shoes, which were clearly epic in every sense of the word. Plus they were narrow enough for my feet, so less chances of ankle injury! I was thrilled.
Then I went running.
I noticed after the first lap (I was running a course around my family's property that amounted to around two miles), I noticed my Achilles tendons felt a little tight. So I stopped and did more stretching, and I kept going. I was hard core. I could take this. When the tightness didn't go away, I told myself I was being a wimp. And I kept running. When I'd finished my course, I stretched more, did my cool-down, and I went inside.
"Hey," I gasped at my father.
"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEGS???" Dad asked. He looked horrified.
When I leaned over and looked, I noticed my shoes were covered with blood. And filled with blood. And my socks were soaked in blood. My blood. Because my shoes, my adorable running shoes, had basically scissored open my skin where the back of the shoe ended at the top. Right where my tendon was. Right where it had been feeling tight.
I was forced to toss the new socks and I tried with all the stain-fighter stuff I had to get the blood out of my shoes. And it kinda worked...but there was this trendy mesh stuff, and under that, there is still a stain. My DNA, folks. So if you ever need to clone me, you know where to look.
And that is why, when I finish 30 Day Shred, I may just invest in some trendy new running shoes. Or I will take my shoes to a hospital or CSI unit and ask to borrow some industrial cleaner of some kind.
It is also why I will never be a runner. I cannot handle that sort of thing again. I looked like a Quentin Tarantino move.