The way things are going

  

Run, Run, Everybody Run

Anyone remember that? The catchy Sesame Street ditty that goes: Run, run, everybody run.Come run with me and we'll have fun. Hey, run, run, everybody run. Five, four, three, two, run. Let's run. You can run in the park. You can run in the street. It really doesn't matter, just move your feet. Just hold my hand, and what do you know? Take a deep breath and ready, set, go.

This is likely the first song I ever learned, the first non-ABC-common-garden-kindergaren-variety song, anyway ... but I digress. I read Miko's marathon musings and am very envious. I want to run,too. I've always wanted to run. But it's tough on the mammary glands, and I can never seem to get things off the ground. They say, start slow. Run for five minutes. Then ten. Build up. When I was a grad student in Bowling Green, my best friend at the time was Janette. She was the coolest. She still is. She with her black cats and her broccoli and pesto pasta. Plus she was beautiful and 43, and a lovely writer. We called each other every day to make sure we were each still alive - this was after we saw Silence of the Lambs together. Bowling Green is the middle of nowhere, America after all. That's what it felt like to us. Anyway, I'm digressing again, she ran. I was 22 and in complete awe of her discipline. Back then, I had no desire to run, as much as I admired it. And now, here we are and Miko's 23 and I'm...well...I'm pushing 40, and I am still in awe. But I feel the desire now. I want those endorphins. Start slow. Even a woman pushing 40 can take baby steps, right? Five minutes. Then ten. Walk, then start again. I want it.It isn't too late, is it?

Maybe this yearning is my body's way of mimicking my state of mind at the moment.
The body is wanting that mind-body connection. So run, people will tell me. Run if you want to run. Just shut up already.

OK, will do.