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TITLE (EDIT)
Run, Walk, Crawl---Fugedaboudit |
DESCRIPTION
An hysterical look at a former runner trying to "fall" back into it after a 25 year hiatus!!
[1,330 words] |
TITLE KEYWORD
Humor |
AUTHOR
LavalleVincentM |
Run, Walk, Crawl---Fugedaboudit
LavalleVincentM
The old middle age spread is creepin’ up on me---I used to be a runner. Yup---ran every day. Nothing like that runner’s high---I could do 4 miles with out working up a sweat---so when a few extra lbs found a home on my hips and thighs—I decided to pull out the ole’ running shoes.
Nothing is like it was---especially in our neighborhood. You can’t just throw on a pair of sneakers and hit the pavement---no way. The outfit has to co-ordinate. Hair done and make up on---spritz of perfume---Nike running shoes---and most importantly---3 pound weights on each wrist. I spent $175.00 before I went on my first jog---and trust me---I still didn’t look that good! But I was stylin’.
I woke at 6 am ready to take on the world. It was already 86 degrees---but I was determined. I hung a water bottle from one of the wrist weights---did 30 seconds of stretching—and was ready to roll. I started out like a bat out of hell. My body was jiggling in places I didn’t know I had---and my chest was bouncing up and down like a rubber ball. I ran about ½ block when the sweat started to blind me---it was dripping into my eyes. My legs felt like they were made of cement and my wrists; like barbells. I couldn’t stop because there were about 50 other runners along each side of my street---all smiling and waving---not a drop of perspiration anywhere. They looked about 18 years old---and nothing jiggled when they ran. I couldn’t embarrass myself---not in this outfit. I tried to keep up.
About 10 minutes into my virgin run---I was convinced my lungs were about to burst. I slowed down to a brisk walk---people were passing me on either side like I was the tortoise in Aesop’s fable. I kept going. One girl was talking on her cell phone as she flew by---another was singing a rap song---now I was annoyed. All I saw were pairs of long, firm legs---with no visible veins. I started running faster.
I suddenly felt as if my entire body was in a vice. I was dizzy and winded. I wanted a drink of water---so I stopped---cold! The next thing I remember---about 45 people were standing over me---including an ambulance driver and 2 paramedics.
“Hello---hello---can you tell me your name”?
“Are you all right, Maam”?
“Who is she---does she live around here”
I had no idea where I was, but I figured I was at least 5 miles from my home---maybe more.
“I don’t live around here”, I sputtered. “I live on Sedgwick drive---where am I”
“Uh---Maam---you’re on Sedgwick Drive---what’s your address”? This young girl obviously did not know where she was.
“Its 632”----I glared at her.
“Oh---well this is the 200 block”. She covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “I think you fainted so I called an ambulance”.
The paramedics were lifting me into their vehicle when my husband drove by. He had no idea what was going on, but he stopped to observe anyway.
“What happened?---did some one get hurt?”, he asked
“Yea”, one of the joggers piped up. “Some amateur went down for the count. Says she lives at 632---you know her”?
“Oh my God---it’s my wife”
Tim found me white as a sheet with two IV’s in my arm.
“What the heck are you trying to prove---you haven’t run in 20 years. Are you nuts?” So much for compassion from the spouse.
“Just get me out of here---I’m fine, really. I just want to go home”.
“Sorry, Maam, we’ve got to take you to the hospital. It’s protocol, you know”.
This was just ducky. My first attempt at athletics in 20 years and I end up in the hospital---I wanted to crawl in a hole, but I still didn’t have the strength.
Tim followed the ambulance and called my doctor from his cell phone. They’d both meet me at the hospital. The runners were still going---some even waved as they passed us. I could hear the paramedics giggling in the front seat.
After 2 hours of being poked and prodded, Dr. Austin showed his face.
“Hee Hee Hee--- you fainted, kiddo.”
“You went to med school for that”, I shot at him. He laughed harder.
“What ever possessed you to take up running again? You’re a nurse---don’t you know better?”
“Listen you antiquated horse doctor---I need to loose a few pounds---what’s wrong with running again?”
“Look, Marianne---we’ve been friends for 25 years---I’m not going to lie to you now. You’re too old to run---take up walking---it’s the exercise of choice for people your age.”
My husband was grinning from ear to ear---why shouldn’t he? He was 6’2” tall---and weighed 170 pounds---his weight was not a problem. I, on the other hand, was 5’1” tall and had the potential to weigh as much as a small island---I needed to do something.
I lashed out at everyone-----“Listen up people---I’m going to start running again. If that means that the paramedics of this city need to be on call for the next 6 weeks---well, too bad. I’m a tax payer. Let them follow me if they have to!”
Dr. Austin was practically hysterical. His face was a deep shade of purple from laughing so hard---and my husband was on his knees trying to catch his breath.
“How ‘bout this for a solution, Marianne”, doctor Austin recommended. “Cut down on the carbs---that means bread and pasta, Mamma Italiano. And lay off the wine---empty calories, kid. You need to follow a senior citizen diet.”
If I had a gun, I would have taken him out. Senior citizen? I’m 50 some-odd years old—I’m not a senior anything.
“Look, Marianne”, Dr. Austin continued, “You haven’t done any running in years---you can’t just fall back into it---excuse the pun. Start walking. Ease into it---then you can do some speed walking—even add some weights if you want—but do it gradually”. He patted my head and laughed---then he was gone.
One of the nurses came in with my discharge instructions. She looked about 16 and was wearing purple scrubs. I wore white---and a cap when I worked. She obviously didn’t know as much as me.
“Here you go, Mrs. Vincent. Just drink plenty of fluids and take it easy for a few days---oh, and per Dr. Austin---don’t even “run” errands----“walk” them”. She tossed her bleached blonde hair around and giggled. I wanted to smack her.
We rode home in total silence. Besides the gash on my left knee from my crash landing---I was fine; except for my bruised ego, of course. We entered our home not even looking at each other---but I knew Tim was choking back the laughter.
I took it easy for a day or so. It was probably the hottest summer we’d had in 15 years, so I hardly wanted to venture outside for fear that I’d either collapse again or worse---run into one of the witnesses to my fainting episode. So---I did what any slightly over weight 50+ Italian woman would do----I cooked---like I was on a mission. It was therapeutic. I force-fed my family for days--- when I finally noticed the beginning of a double chin on my husband---I pulled out the old sweats and Nikes again.
I began a walking regiment. Nice and slow. Of course, I walk at one of the school tracks about 5 miles from my home---no sense “running” into any one I know. I am happy to report that I’ve taken off a few lbs—and am practically injury free. Well, except for a few stitches in my left leg when I attempted to jump the school fence----but we won’t get into that! (Tim thinks I cut myself shaving.) Next month I may try belly dancing---if I have any extra money to buy the outfit! And I bet I’ll be darn good at it, too! I mean---how can you injure yourself in a harem?
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READER'S REVIEWS (2)
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" Wonderful story, nice layout, seemes to be planned out well. Dialogue ada a flavour to the story! The writer tries to make us feel sympathy towards the fainted dudette & suceeds nicely!" -- Chiranthie "C-Kat" Karunaratna, Nugegoda, Sri Lanka.
"jonny" -- jonny, jonny, jonny, jonny.
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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2005 LavalleVincentM |
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
August 2005 |
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1490
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