I Have a Problem

Hi, my name is Old Coot and I'm a runaholic. I thought it was some I had under control, but last night I realized that I have a real problem with running. I've been trying to take some time off from it lately to give my poor body a rest, but it seems like everyday there's an excuse to be out there.

Yesterday, my plan was to stay in and clean the house/do laundry. I sat down to a bowl of cereal after work when the phone rang; the next thing I know I'm backing down the driveway headed for the woods. The lady I was going to meet had mentioned earlier in the week that I might have a problem because she too had one last summer, and she knew the warning signs. I figured it was something that happens to other people, I could stop any time I wanted. But as I stepped out of the car I realized that my ankles were sore, I could barely straighten my right leg and I had a tightness in my lower back. "Must be getting old" I told myself, but in reality old age has nothing to do with this. I'm an addict.

So we walked a little at first to let me work out the kinks. A few stretches and we were into the woods at a leisurely pace. The plan was to do an easy 4.5 mile figure-8 through Canoe Meadows and call it a day. Canoe meadows is a nature preserve, with well-maintained trails for birdwatchers and wildlife nerds. The cushy trails are gentle on the joints so it was a good easy run. In contrast, the section of road back to her house felt like I had 50 lbs strapped to my back. It just goes to show you (me) the difference surfaces make.

As an aside, I need new trail shoes; mine have had it. The holes in the top are spreading. Oh well, I've put a hurting on them over the last 6-7 months and they've served me well.

Last night after my run I did manage to get some cleaning done. I threw out some crap I've been hanging onto for years for no apparent reason. I've been trying to teach myself that just because I should have a sentimental attachment to something doesn't mean I should keep it. Many times I don't even care about the thing, I just feel like I should care so I hang onto it. That drives me crazy! Last night I threw some of that crap out.

I also whipped through a few loads of laundry and did some power ironing. My pile of WRINKLED shirts left my closet barren and my wardrobe thin. It was time to take the old Black and Decker iron to that shit and get some clothes back. Conveniently "Wednesday Night Fights" was on, so I got to watch some good ole boxing. There's just something manly about standing in your livingroom in your silk shorts, ironing and watching boxing.

One at a time please, ladies. Form a line, please.

That's it, I'm out.

Over and out,
Old Coot