Running With Boys

I thought I was in pretty good shape.

I mean, I ran two 5k's this summer. At some point I was running 5 miles a day. I've backed down to about 10 or 12 miles a week, but still, I thought I was doing pretty good.

Until I went running with Mitch this week. Okay, so to be honest, I never really ran with Mitch. I started running, he followed me for about 3 seconds, and then shot past me like a rifle, muttering something about me being slow as he passed by. He passed me again, as he was heading for home, and I was still on the first half. By the time I finished and made it back home, he was camped out on the couch, showered, and slurping down a Mountain Dew.

That's what brought me to the realization that no matter how many miles I run, nothing can change the fact that I am a slow, flabby old woman, and it is all downhill from here. Mammograms, colonoscopies, cataracts and hip replacements are all coming alarmingly into focus.

Will just started working on his physical fitness merit badge, so he went running with us too. I am happy to report I can still run farther than him. But then at the end, we sprinted home, and he totally creamed me. I will never again be a sprinter.

It's all good though. I have Oreos. I am going to go indulge in some emotional eating now, and see if I can make myself feel better.