I make a face for when people talk about running and when people (not so delicately) ask why I’m single. It’s the same face. It looks a little (a lot) like this:
Maybe the reason I’m without a plus one is faces like this…
This also what my face looks like when I’m sick of super long, unhealthy hair (which, sigh, I miss…also, I miss my BlackBerry, touchscreens are not my fave).
Love hurts. Running really, really hurts
In fact, they both always manage to hurt in new, unexpected ways. Much like I’m constantly discovering new dating disasters, like a guy asking if I can hook him up with my sister, I’m now finding new, terrible sensations I didn’t even know my body could experience. Hey, what’s this constant sharp pain in my shins? Oh, that’s shin splints? FUN.
Both require medication. In the form of Advil for those shin splits; bourbon for heartbreak.
I have to really think about my outfits. Finding the right sports bra and shoes is proving to be as difficult a mission as finding the perfect comfy-yet-sexy combo for dates.
The hardest part is forcing myself to do it. I always dread the first minutes of first dates, just like I dread getting to the gym or stepping outside to run. But once I’m there, it’s not so bad. Just kidding—the running is still terrible. Dates are sometimes good, though.
Sweating. So much sweating, from nerves and/or sheer exhaustion.
Feelings of inadequacy. I feel the same way about people who can just easily jog around for 40 minutes as I do about my friends who married, like, the first guy they met online. Why is this so easy for everyone else?
People who talk about feeling a “runner’s high” = People who say things like “When you know, you know.” I’m pretty sure they are talking nonsense.
Speaking of nonsense, people have tons of contradicting advice on both subjects. Ice your legs. Heat your legs. Stretch before running. Don’t stretch before running. Make dating as important as your job. Forget about dating, and that’s when you’ll find love. You’re not helping, guys!
Related: People always say it will be worth it in the end but I’m not sure I believe them. At least as far as running is concerned. You know the end = more running, right? That sounds like a terrible reward. I’m more inclined to believe it about dating.
It’s embarrassing to do in front of other people. You know when you can feel the couple next to you eavesdropping to guess what date you’re on at the bar, and it’s so uncomfortable? I feel the same way about the super-toned girl on the treadmill next to me I can feel silently judging my mph. (Hint: turtle speed.)
I want to give up on both about a million times per second.
OK, OK, even if it’s really bad, I’m always kind of glad I did it afterward. That even goes for running.
Ahh, Gena, get out of my head.
But seriously. Crazy.