So I’ve been doing this thing lately where I run – on purpose – and nothing’s chasing me. Technically I alternate between walking and
dying jogging, but it’s as close to running as I’ve ever been. I run in literal circles at the Y up the street, and I’m actually enjoying it. For that 30-40 minute chunk of time, no fucks are given when I get a call/text/email, and I’m not worried about what I look like (because it’s probably this); it’s just me and my music/the zombies (while nothing really chases me, I do use this app).
Now that I’ve been doing it with a bit of regularity, I’m less, ‘Fuck this fuck this fire lungs fuck this,’ and more, ‘I can totally do a full lap around. Maybe. Okay, it’s happening. Feet, what are you doing to me?’
I attempted a yoga class last week to complement the running. My thoughts were running isn’t very ‘zen,’ and I’m still kind of dark and twisty, so maybe yoga will inject some calm into my life. Yeah, that did not happen. Sometime between a girl falling off her yoga block in tree pose (I was not that girl this time, but could very easily be that girl) and my boobs being mashed into the floor during pigeon, I realized my zen is not on a yoga mat. I enjoy yoga, but it is not calming. Running, fire lungs and all, is much more my speed (see what I did there?). It lets my mind wander, and wander it does. I tend to space out a lot and enter the realm of what I call my soap opera, and now it’s set to the soundtrack of ridiculous dance music and zombie moans.
Running also brought me face to face with a weird flirting situation (or non-situation). The trouble with interacting with people IRL is you have to figure out what is happening. There are no messages of interest, no winks or smiley faces, and I think years of online dating have broken my radar. I needed new running shoes (my shins were threatening to walk up and leave in the middle of the night if this did not happen), so I went to the trusty Running Room. The dude was very helpful, and possibly flirty, but as someone who has worked in retail and been on the receiving end of gross pick up lines while trapped behind a cash register, I erred on the side of ‘being nice/doing his job,’ but I’m still not sure. Ugh, flirting and human interaction is exhausting, amiright? Oh well, only 700km to go before I need to replace these kicks and have an excuse to go back there.
Site news: You may notice there’s been a bit of a change around here, I finally bought the domain for StephNotStephanie! An online magazine is going to be publishing select posts, so I thought it was about time I jazzed the place up.