Tonight I went running in the park. All by myself. Like the big girl that I am. Normally I run with my friend, the super runner. He can run further and faster than I’ll ever be able to run, but he’s nice enough to go with me so that I don’t have to do the long runs by myself.
Because let’s face it, I’m a running disaster waiting to happen.
Let’s see. Tonight I ran about 5.5 miles. I had an asthma attack. I got lost. And toward the end, my stomach cramped so bad that I couldn’t walk. And all of that happened several miles from my car. Plus I got lazy and walked a lot more than normal.
I think there’s a strong possibility that if I continue to run alone, somebody will find me wandering the streets of Fort Worth, looking for my car. Or I’ll be passed out on the sidewalk, and runners will have to step over my limp but well-dressed body as they go by. Either way, it won’t be pretty.
So I’m either going to have to call my running friend again, or I’m going to start running with my inhaler, my cell phone, and a whistle. And maybe some flares. And a pistol. And an atlas. Looks like I’m going to need a backpack that matches my running shoes.