This is my one week off before starting more classes, so I decided to get in shape. Today. All. Today. Not just because I had time, what with the school break, but because I told my cousin I’d do a half marathon with her. And I haven’t really gone for a run in a few… weeks.  And I’ve never run a race at all. And… aren’t there lots of people squished around you when you run races like that…? But  I’ll worry about that later.

Somewhat delayed, after committing to run with her, I remembered to ask exactly how long a half marathon is. Numbers and I do not get along. They just slip out of my head as quickly as I put them there. But I figured I better remember this one, and then work towards it and all. Today.

She ran a full marathon a few years back, and knows these things. She answered me. But I forgot.

The first order of business today was to see a chiropractor. I had gone for a quick, one night trip this weekend to see family and laughed SO much with my mom, sister, cousin, father and stepmother (not all at once),  that my jaw FREAKED. OUT.  So the chiropractor fixed it, after examining it and saying, “you really did laugh too much.”

I cannot help it.

My sister is loud, and funny, and when we’re in public places she often says or does something that evokes this mix of  embarrassment/shock/laughter/let me crawl under a table rightthissecond/cry from laughing thing. Actually, all of my family is like that. But LaLa is in a league all her own.  And I’m a ‘please let me blend into the wallpaper and let no one notice me’ sort and the combination of that and LaLa is…. really something.

There was a perfectly innocent reason for her to look at me and loudly proclaim, ‘KINKY!’ Really. There was. Four of us sat at a vegan cafe discussing all sorts of things, and also the soon-to-be-remedied texture of my tumbleweed hair. This was LaLa’s (loud) adjective.

I was already nervous about being in a vegan cafe in the first place, because vegetarians in general make me nervous.  I did not really want to partake in their culture all the way to the vegan level, or accidentally trip and fall and end up in their cafes and come out wearing birkenstocks.

It’s not always about the shoes with me.

No, okay, it is.

The food was lovely.

My hair is professionally smoothed.  My jaw is expertly fixed. I did not trip and fall into a vegan’s shoes. I did trip  and almost fall in the parking lot afterwards, but that’s just because the ground is uneven there and I am not used to uneven, sloping ground. Where I  come from, the ground is flat.

So today I went to the gym, determined to do two classes and maybe get a run in later today. I’m sort of  an all or nothing sort. Today was ALL. After the first class I was really shaky because I’d  taken the instructor up on her challenges every single time to add more weight than usual.   I hate it when they say that. I can’t ignore it. It sets off this competitive thing in my brain and there’s no turning it off. No one else would know, but that doesn’t matter.

After the first class, I washed my hands in the locker room and could not get a paper towel to come out of the dispenser. I was shaky and my hands were drippy. A very nice lady at another sink finished, retrieved paper towels from another dispenser, and handed me two. “Honey, here. That’s the tampon machine.”

“Oh. OH! Thanks.”

The two things look nothing alike. They’re on the same wall, but still.  NOTHING.

“You’re welcome. Does your hand hurt? It looked like it hurt when you dropped that weight on it.”

“Ah… uh… no. Thanks for asking.”

Apparently the Nice Lady Who Can Discern The Key Differences Between Paper Towel Holders and Tampon Machines was in that class, and I’d dropped a weight on my hand but I’d already forgotten until she mentioned it.

Anyway. Hand is fine.

I did the second class, but skipped the run. There’s always tomorrow. If I can move.

I forget. How far is a half marathon…?

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