I’m in a funk. And I shouldn’t be. Yesterday I got to catch up with former roommate Brandon Oropallo and my brother. Brandon even brought me screen used Match Game answer cards. It was great to see him and to see him so happy – his wife and kid are really wonderful and I couldn’t be more pleased to hear the tales of the Oropallos.
I even rallied yesterday to get a short run in before meeting Brent for a movie. I hated the movie but it was as always good to see Brent.
And yet – funk. Part of it all is the seemingly unending stream of tragic and awful news, most recently in Nice, France… Though I think I also just saw there was a military coup in Turkey. Maybe this is the summer of 1914. God, I hope not.
My ankle is still bothering me. And so I’m walking a bit here in LA to do errands (I think at worst it’s the same amount of time and stress as driving and at best it’s faster on foot). But I’be chosen not to run today in the hopes my ankle is better tomorrow for the half marathon down in Long Beach.
I’m also choosing not to run a race I was one button click away from signing up for this morning. The Myrtle Beach Marathon has its 20th Anniversary running in March and today’s the last day for early bird pricing. I sometimes like to revisit races I have run previously, especially in their base 5 anniversaries. Plus, right now I don’t have anything booked for March 2017. But I’ve been thinking of logistics, and I also thought how I’ve gone up there twice before for their marathon. My first try they cancelled the race due to a snow forecast at 11 pm the night before. So in reality, though 2017 would mark the 20th anniversary of the inaugural run, it would NOT be the 20th RUNNING of the marathon.
Besides, there IS a Florida race that same weekend that I’ve never done. So much like today’s choice not to run, the Myrtle Beach skip is so that I can run something else some other day.
I choose to run again… Just not today.
As such, I’d like to say I choose to de-funk tomorrow but it doesn’t always work that way. Sometimes you can fake it until it’s real and sometimes you’re just faking. My efforts so far to rally out of this funk have proven fake-ful.
On a separate but perhaps related funkitude note, I ordered some new jeans as nothing seems to fit any more. Tried various sizes and styles but when they were delivered today not a single pair fit – they were all too tight but in different places. The waist was tight or the thigh or the tapered leg or the straight leg was fine but too short or too long. I just spent two hours walking back and forth from the bricks and mortar store to return them and get them out of my life ASAP. They’re gone now but the weird self inflicted body shame lingers. Who needs the media to cause my funk when buying a pair of pants is so depressing?
Funk. Funk funk funk–funk funk. Would that just by saying it repeatedly the word would lose all meaning, as the word “tartlet” did for Jon Lovitz on that episode of Friends.
What a downer of a post. Sorry, folks. Some days are like that. Hopefully this weekend as I run two half marathons I’ll perk up. If the numbers are right, and I snap two pics with my bib and a slice of pizza I will achieve Rank 8 Supreme with Team Pizza Racers.
Gotta have a goal to get out of bed sometimes. Even if it’s a silly one.
Maybe ESPECIALLY if it’s a silly one.