I went to the gym this morning to run. Since the snow and cold settled in, I haven’t done a whole lot of running. So for the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to work it back into my schedule by using the treadmills at the gym.
One of the first days I was going to the gym to run, I realized I had no idea where my earbuds were. Which is odd, because if they’re not plugged into my phone, I put them back in their little black zipper case. I had the case. But no earbuds.
It’s not like me to lose something like this. Oh, I can lose things as easily as the next person, but not something like my earbuds, which are always in one of two places. Not to mention, they were really nice Bose earbuds. Mark bought them for me for Valentine’s Day four years or so ago. Their sound was better than any other earbuds I’ve ever had. And they fit comfortably in my ears, unlike almost everything else I’d tried.
I’ve got a plethora of other earbuds floating around here. Some of them came with the various iPhones owned by the family over the years. Some I bought in my quest to find earbuds that would stay in my ears while running. Once the Bose earbuds entered my life, all of the rest of them began collecting dust. But I’ve resurrected a few pairs over the last couple of weeks. And I was quickly reminded how much I miss my Bose earbuds.
I’ve continued to search, without success for my favorite earbuds. And I’ve done my share of whining over the fact that I still can’t find them. This morning, I woke up Mark while rummaging around my nightstand drawer in the dark.
What are you doing? He mumbled.
Sorry! I whispered. Looking for some earbuds.
I found another old pair. Mark rolled over and went back to sleep while I headed off to the gym. I claimed my treadmill, plugged the earbuds in my ears and began to listen to music while I ran. And then I thought I felt a little sting in one ear. And then the other. Those earbuds were zapping my ears! Guess that pair had a short in the wires or something. I yanked ’em out in frustration and resolved to do my run to the sounds of the gym and whatever music was being piped through the speaker system.
I was a little thrown off by all of the distraction, but I kept at it. I realized that, for me at least, being able to run continuously is mainly a matter of telling myself I can! The minute I start thinking I might need to slow down and walk for a bit, that’s my downfall. I’ll do exactly that. So I have to keep mentally encouraging myself.
A gentleman came along and claimed the treadmill next to mine around the time I was hitting the first mile. I kind of prefer if I can run without anyone directly next to me, but that’s a rare luxury at the gym. My treadmill neighbor started to run too, and then I became grateful he was there. Because another recent realization is that running with another person is highly motivating. Whether he knew it or not, he was my motivator, and the run felt easier for the next mile because I was keeping up with him.
But then? He slowed down and stopped. Oh, no! And I still wanted to go another mile. So I had to motivate myself. I said to myself, I said, Dude, just one more mile. Keep going! (I don’t know why I referred to myself as Dude. I don’t really fit the bill of your typical dude, but the encouragement seemed to do the trick. I kept running.)
I got my few miles in and then called it quits. I’d had a hard time waking up an hour earlier, but I was glad I’d dragged myself out of bed and done some exercise to jump-start my day. I always feel a million times more energetic when I do some kind of workout.
And when it was all said and done, it was quite a day, bringing up the end of a particularly long week. A real brain-drainer. I spent way too much time just sitting, staring at my computer screen and typing. I really should get up and move around more often. I hate to imagine what all of that sitting is doing to my heart. So especially after days and weeks like this, I’m glad when I start my days with something physical.
I came home from work to an empty house, save for Lucy, who greeted me with a level of excitement that would imply I’d been gone for weeks rather than hours. As I made my way up the steps from the foyer to the living room, being careful not to trip over the dog who was still dancing around my feet, something caught my eye.
It was a box on the end table, next to my stack of books. There was no question it was for me and no doubt in my mind it had been left there by my hubby.
This is definitely one of the most thoughtful things he’s ever done for me! And it’s not even Valentine’s Day!