I Just Feel Like Running

I turn 50 in 24 days. Or something like that.

In the Army I was told I could never run again unless it was to dodge bullets. One time during pt my walk pace was about to break the threshold into a lope of sort and I nearly got in trouble. They were serious.

After the Army I went to physical therapy and asked if I could run now and she said no. But last year, my neighbor’s pot belly pig started biting me on my calf and it really hurt so I had to run away – while she chased me. My pants started falling down too, and I was in flip flops waddle-running through a yard full of holes made by one or more moles (they’re so cute I can’t kill them), while something vicious grunted behind me. For some reason I broke into laughter while it was happening, but I was really scared. Those two teeth she had on the bottom were serious.

Anyway…

I might try it again. I’ve been watching this video about a guy who was never expected to even walk again without aid, so he started doing yoga. I think it only took a year and he lost mega weight and was sprinting like a high school athlete. I had hip stress fractures on the femoral neck part and the ball and socket part were pretty messed up for a spell. I’m sick of wasting what’s left of my youth.

Hiking has been a saving grace for me mentally. This past year was about going for things I “always wanted to do but never had the guts,” and I made some personal strides. Not that I was successful, but I did them instead of wishing I had. I am REALLY UNHAPPY about turning 50. Like – I just want to turn my pudgy middle finger up at life. Fek it. I won’t go gracefully.

For me and this fat body I think my first real act of rebellion for being forced to age past 35 is to buy a new pair of running shoes and get that book on learning how to run. I had it once and it was amazing. I even had a running coach who taught us how to run from scratch (it was the same as the book so it was really perfect for me at that time).

Yeah. Screw you 50. You can have your party without me.

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