I cover from head to toe last Sunday to set off for my five-mile run in arctic temperatures. When it hits the low 20s in New York, you feel a little closer to the Santa and imagine Polar Bears might attack if you don’t pick up speed, the latter good motivation to not quit. In my no-can-show-skin get-up, I can easily be mistaken for ski patrol or, say, a bank robber, my ear lobes the only parts exposed to the elements. I am determined to run. But I am even more determined to stay warm. Music set to my SuperHero playlist, I am out the door, off and running. SuperHero, because I always feel like a Superhero by the time I make it back home. Plus, my go-to song is actually “SuperHero” by Family Force 5. My run usually slows to a jog when it comes on. Because I can’t run as fast when I sing out loud. And when you have headphones in, you can’t tell how loud or how off-key you’re singing. Yeah. I’m that runner. Continue reading
Years ago, back in the dating days, hubs and I spent the day at the Lincoln Zoo in Chicago on a sunny summer Saturday. Or maybe it was a Sunday. My memory is a little fuzzy. What I do recall and what we joke about even now is how we came upon a sign to see the “Snow Tiger.” But the Snow Tiger was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was napping behind the large oak or camouflaged in with the white paint on the back wall and we just couldn’t see her.
“There’s no Tiger.” My comedian friend said. “Get it? Ssssnow tiger.”
Now whenever we visit Chicago and reunite, inevitably something comes up that creates the perfect opportunity to rehash that old joke. Snow. S. No. Maybe you just had to be there. Continue reading
Wake up this morning with every intention to run. Then I hear the patter of rain outside my bedroom window. I do not want to run in the rain.
Truth is, I do not like to run. I don’t hate it like I used to. But I am so not there. That runner’s high people talk about? I’m thinking the closest I’ve ever come is one time when I got distracted by the music on my iPod during a jog and ran into a parked car and went flying HIGH into the air, but miraculously landed on my feet and kept running.
Okay, so the story above is slightly skewed, but there was a time when my husband biked into a street barrier, flew off his bike, and landed on his feet and actually continued down the street running. I swear! True story. Ask his friends in Miami. He was the campus SuperHero…for like a day.
So anyway, this morning, I am thinking of all the reasons I cannot possibly run in the rain. What if I fall? What if some speeding car whizzes by my and bumps me off the road in a wake-making blur? What if my pinky toenails fall off? Continue reading
When I was little, I played tag with my neighbors, friends and my baby sister. It’s what you do when you’re a kid and it takes the least amount of debating when there’s a lot of kids who want to play.
I could run pretty fast back in the day. So as I entered my elementary years, I joined the track team. I ran in the 100 meter dash and I was usually leg three of the four member relay race. I still remember the jitters like it was yesterday over the fear of dropping the baton during a transfer. I never did. But not one race went by that I didn’t worry.