Thursday, October 8, 2020

The Real Cost of a $3 Milkshake

After downing a delicious "large" chocolate milkshake (which we all know is really the old extra-large size, we just don't call it that anymore) at lunch today, I decided my penance would be a longer, harder-than-originally-planned run in the afternoon.

And it wasn't going to be just any old run. I had decided early in the morning that today's would be another triple J (a Jungle Jane Jog, where I hike, run, jog through one of the amazingly pretty but often hilly and rooty mountain trails). And this time I just had to make it more difficult--see aforementioned over-sized, ill-advised dining choice.

It started out great, mostly because the initial terrain was mostly a mix of easy downhills, some level spots and minimally rooty. For about a mile plus I was loving it. Into mile two the slope started to rise quite a bit, as did the rock outcroppings and root heights. Note that this was also an out-and-back trail, so it dawned on me that however far I traversed one way, I had to return the same distance.

Occasionally I encountered a hiker or two, most who would smile or say a word of encouragement. because, mind you, this really is more of a traditional walking trail than a speedy style one. 

Well into the second mile, I noticed a pattern among the passersby...the older hikers (my age and up) would generally offer me friendly nods or bewildered smiles, whereas the younger ones would beam at me, most the time offering an encouraging phrase or cheer. Perhaps they were just in shock that a woman of a certain age could still run, and on a hilly course at that.

At my estimation I was past mile 3 mile and realized it really was time to turn around, but that's when I crossed paths with three adorable, very supportive college guys. As I jogged in place so they could safely pass, they asked me how much further I was planning to run and warned me that the next section was "straight up!" (maybe they were considering if they ought to follow me a bit to see if I should require CPR). At first I thought Oh, they are in awe of my speed, my effort, my skills. 

But quickly I recognized their real concern was witnessing someone's mom (a lady old enough to be theirs) keeling over near Grandfather Mountain and so were compelled to warn me of my demise if I should continue going upwards.

Of course instead of heading back, I took their thoughtful fret as inspiration to keep on going (wasn't I just telling myself two minutes ago it was about time to turn around?!?). So on I went for about another mile. It was tough.

After awhile I looked at my watch and realized I had gone well further than planned (and had served my dessert punishment). I started my descent, sometimes light jogging, some easy walking. But the entire time I was delighting at what I had done, even though at that point my belly did not share that sentiment. 

Finally, I saw the parking lot in the short distance (and thank the good Lord, the bathroom) and I mused...

Was it another great JJJ? Yes. Probably my best.

Are those sweet college kids smarter than me? Yes, they are.

Was it worth defying those well-intended whipper-snappers? Heck yes.

So will I be able to walk tomorrow? Heck no.

Should I have eaten that HUGE milkshake at lunch? DEFINITELY! 

And by then I was running to the bathroom, but I was still smiling.






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