I’ll Take That as a Compliment


“So you consider six miles to be a long run?”

That was hub’s comment after telling him how far I ran this morning. His little jab actually felt complimentary.

I normally do a long run on Saturdays (8, 10 or 12 miles) and cycle with my crew on Sunday mornings. I plan my Saturdays around my run. I schedule things so that I can take my time and cover the mileage.

This weekend one member of said crew wanted the gang to cycle yesterday so there would be time to get in more miles than we would on a Sunday (the group kindly accommodates two of us who attend  morning church services each week). That left this morning for my “long” run.

I’d planned to run eight miles this morning. I set the alarm early enough to accomplish this. Rather than go to the greenway I normally run, would go to a YMCA that’s very near my church. I would run, shower at the Y, then go to church.

My plan would have been perfect had I not hit the snooze bar…and turned off the alarm clock. I didn’t exactly oversleep, but I did not arrive at the Y as early as I’d hoped. To make matters worse, I didn’t brew coffee. My reasoning…well, people of a certain age like knowing there are bathrooms nearby. My beloved greenway route has several. But today’s route only has one….about three miles away from the start point. So I decided I’d skip the coffee.

Big mistake. Never before have I run decaffeineated. I’ve read studies about how caffeine helps boost athletic performance. Try as a might, I could not pick up my pace. I tried to imagine being chased by a bear. That didn’t work. In fact, had that scenario been reality, the bear would have had a high-fat meal.

About half way through my run it became clear that hitting snooze alarm + turning off alarm + no coffee + needing to be in the shower by 8:30 = less mileage. I settled for six and hit the shower.

So back to hub’s  smarmy comment statement. Seventy-nine pounds ago running six miles would have been unthinkable. Even after beginning to lose weight, the first time I covered five miles I had to take a nap. Now I’ll run 10 miles, then come home and mow the lawn with a push mower.  Running a minimum of eight miles is now the norm.  It’s as normal to me as brushing my teeth. And hubs realizes that.

So, thanks, hubs; thanks for noticing.

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