Yesterday I got home late from work, had to attend a work do. I got in, all dressed up still, fed the kitty, checked my plants and then just walked around the house. It was sad. Me with nothing to do, all by my lonesome. There was no dinner to cook either, we still had leftovers. I was beginning to feel sorry for myself and then though no. I feel sorry for myself way too often. There is always an excuse to wallow in a huge sea of self pity. So instead I changed my clothes, grabbed my earphones and music and decided it was time to get back to jogging.
Hubby and I used to jog about three times a week, but with his promotion we stopped. I was not about to jog in the streets alone. I’m tough, but only like a butter cookie. Since we have moved house, I can jog inside the security estate we live in without feeling unsafe.
So there I was, listening to Disturbed screaming in my ears, pounding down the grass. It was great. I was puffing and trying to sing and there was no energy in all that to think about me being all alone. I got back home energized. Weird. Normally I would be just about dragging myself back to the gate, shin splints causing untold agony. Yesterday was the first time I jogged alone and finished feeling better. I think it may have to do with jogging alone at my own pace, with my music and especially without the sun beating down on my head.
When I returned home, I was so energised I even did some laundry, and started deep cleaning the kitchen.
All from a jog. I think I will have to do it more often. Hubby was inspired to jog with me when he is home. I have not yet felt any twinges of muscle ache, maybe I am fitter than I thought I was?
We surprise ourselves sometimes. I remembered the love letter I wrote to my body back when we all did it. Do you remember yours?