When I posted the Procrastination Plan on Monday, and I really was “so excited,” and “so scared.” After not running regularly for about six months, I was worried that I would be terrible. (I am) I was worried that I would be embarrassingly slow (I am). And I was worried that I would be hating every minute of it (I am NOT!). I can hear my 20-year-old-self screaming from the ancient past at this, but it’s true — I actually LOVED my sunrise runs this week.
As someone who has trouble pushing the envelope, trying new things, being in a learning curve, and not knowing what I’m doing (I think the scientific name is Lamiaceae Coleus Canina — Scaredy Cat), I worked really hard to start running. I used to revel in telling people that I only ran from criminals (not entirely true) or that I only ran toward junk food (entirely true). But a brief love affair with the idea of joining the armed forces introduced me to running. A lot of running. In PUBLIC.
I turned to daily jogs whenever I felt that my life was in a vice as a meditative alternative to drinking myself into an incoherent stupor (although, let’s be real, sometimes there is just no better alternative). Running also got me hooked on podcasts as a way to keep up on politics, and culture, from which I have been woefully removed without my go-to dose of discussion during regular runs.
I eventually liked keeping track of my runs. (Nerd alert). I tried to run farther or faster (but mostly farther, because I pretty much have two running speeds: doing it, or not doing it.) I even joined online challenges and running groups and felt motivated by those online communities to run more frequently and post more runs. (Still mortified about running with people I actually know.)
And what’s sad is, like so many things, no matter how much I enjoyed running, needed running, and missed running when I wasn’t doing it, I haven’t seemed to be able to work it in to my new work schedule. I would pencil it in. Then I would draw an arrow from the day I initially planned to do it, to a later day when surely I’d be free to do it. Two arrows and an asterisk later, I’d eventually accept defeat, kowtow to The Work Gods, and erase the jog from the calendar.
I’m too busy for running. Gross. Being too busy for things you enjoy, need, and miss is so 90s-Ugly-American. I’m the “new busy,” (so what if I’ve never used Hotmail?) and I’m right with Microsoft who says, “Let the old busy have their stress balls, their antacids and their crazy eyes. We are the new busy, we are redefining busy.”
I’m redefining my own busy, and putting running back on the calendar — IN PEN.