My boyfriend runs like Frankenstein. It’s funny. You can laugh.
Cowboy has started to run with me in the mornings. I cannot say if I’m liking it so much. Running alongside Frankenstein is one thing. But the waiting for him part is a chore.
When the alarm goes off at 5:50am, I’m either very awake or just semi awake. Either way, I’m definitely out of the bed and dressed by ten after six. Cowboy, not so much. It takes him forever to pull on some shorts and a tee shirt. Forget putting on his kicks and tying the laces. That seems like eternity. My shoes are always tied, I just slip my feet in. Done. Then we have to walk to the trail. I’m in love with a slow walker. Granted, he just woke up a few moments earlier. The walk that used to take me less than five minutes now takes me ten.
But once we get him on that trail – Frankenstein running. He does not play around. It’s not a jog and it’s not a run. It’s a race. Frankenstein is fast. There is no slowing down for him or pausing for breath or quick walk if your legs feel weak. It’s a non stop run from the moment we hit the trail and back. I am so very happy. He is pushing me to push my body more so than ever. Yeehaw.
A few months ago I met a group of young folks at the pool. One of them lives right off the trail and their patio faces it. They admitted to me that it’s a good time to make fun of the style and form of runners as they whizzed by. I can imagine it must be a funny sight. I’ve seen some lookers and some serious hard core people out there running.
I am always thinking of my form and style while out there. I know I don’t run like Phoebe. And I for sure know I do not run like Frankenstein. Cowboy runs like all his weight is in his feet. All clunky and stomp like. I run very quietly, you cannot hear me coming from behind you.
Cowboy, not so much. Stomp, stomp, stomp. I like to think that my run is very graceful – it probably isn’t. I spend half my running time wondering how my form looks. Crazy, I know. But I don't want a bunch of young folk making fun of me from a balcony. I like to think of it as this is what Audrey Hepburn looked like if or when she ran. All graceful like. It’s okay. You can laugh.