Mommy Go Running?

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"Mommy Go Running?" Sayler often asks as I lace up and grab the earbuds that are always momentarily lost somewhere in the house.

I often reply "yep, mommy go running", and I'll plant a big wet kiss on her cheek as she bids me adieu.

Someday, not long from now, I will explain to her that it's not just a run...

More like "mommy go therapy" or "mommy go away from daddy because she's driving him crazy" or "mommy go listen to her new album" ... and these things just happen to involve the thumping of my heel-toe-strike on the pavement. 

But to keep it simple, for now, I simply smile and reply.. "Yep... Mommy go running."

It was Saturday that I last laced up for a decent run and I made a promise to myself that I would discover new things about my usual route... that I would pay attention to the details of my hood.

Of course... those things can slow a girl down... but it's not about the time...


It's about stopping to pick the prettiest daisy of the bunch along the sidewalk for someone special... a safety stop at the stoplights (why were there so many reds on Saturday?), and about getting a nice, dry hump in en route, from both the black and the white ones during the journey (because I'm an equal opportunity lover). ...And let me just add how both gave it to me good... but I couldn't help myself but to indulge even though I knew the distraction en route would mar my time stamp.

Wait...

I feel like I might be missing an important detail or two in this recollection...

The "black and the white ones" were the massive bull-mix dogs that had escaped a yard and, to most sane runners, would have been immediate cause to high-tail it in another direction.

They came right at me.

So of course, with all my animal-loving instincts, I couldn't help but run right at them with all my kissy noises and welcome (as though they gave me a choice...) their enthusiastic dry humps (aggressive lovers).  There was at least one inappropriate crotch sniff that had me chastising the one that still had a very filthy shoe in his mouth (no euphemisms here) and the other large bull-mix kept pawing at my ass (my college years came flooding back at me...)

We chatted... I asked them where they live... they gave me the literal and figurative run-around... I continued to get my ass smacked and my face licked while I carefully clutched my iPhone, lest I should lose my coveted running playlist... and we finally made it back to their place after a little process of (house) elimination. They followed me... I carried the dirty shoe...

Several doorbell rings later I got the owner, completely unaware that he was making my time look really slow to the MapyMyRun community.... and we hustled those aggressive lovers back into their yard all while the clock kept ticking...

Til' next time, boys!

Back to the pavement, swish-swish-swoosh, and I enthusiastically smiled onward while listening to this album of the year.

And I swear my time got a little caught up because I had to stop to replay this song about 5 times.

Seriously. 

Turn it up. 

Loud....

No...

Louder....

See what I mean?

And to anyone who says you can't dance while running, I give you exhibit A.

See what I mean?

So I'm not sure how to tell Sayler that "mommy go running while breaking down some moves and escorting dogs home and picking flowers"....but I just bought her her first pair of running shorts, so in time, she will know what I mean when I say "mommy go running... with Sayler". 


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