Friday, June 10, 2011

Introductions

I'm a Disney Princess! 


Well............ sorta.


Okay, so I went running.  (pause for inevitable laughter).  I know, it's okay, you can laugh.


Not only did I turn all kinds of red and purple, but yesterday I chose to wear a white athletic shirt and white tennis shorts (why???  Where was my head in this plan?), a glowing snowman-yeti hurtling down the pavement at a stunning 4mph.  Hopefully faster than that, but probably not, knowing my athletic skills. Sorry.  Keep reading.  I'll get to the story.

One of my biggest obstacles in running is my intense self-consciousness about running/exercising in public.  My latest solution is self-coaching, which usually goes like this:

"All right, Christi, don't worry about it.  No one cares.  You are engaging in the imaginary audience fable, which is part of adolescent development, which you SHOULD have outgrown by now.  You can do this!  No one's looking!  Even if they are, they're cheering you on, because most of them are 60 and older and are just generally encouraging people!  All right!  This is great!"

However, I made the mistake of turning down a new street, where a young man about my age was chatting with friends on the sidewalk.  Of course, he looked like all of the high school jocks from my past... except my age.

Thought process: "Guy!  My age!  DARN IT! Aahhh! Aw, man, he's cute, too!  Shoot.  He probably thinks that I look like a glowing snowman-yeti.  Why did I wear all white? Idiot.  Don't look, don't look, maybe he won't see you if you don't look at him!"

At this point, I crossed to the other side of the street, and he looked up, and I tried my hardest to look somewhere, anywhere, but that side of the street.  I kept trying to tell myself that he didn't see me, that he shouldn't care, but I heard laughter following me.  Dang it.

I kept running, but then I heard a car horn honk behind me.  Driving the car was said guy, car full of other guys and girls my age, all laughing, and he smiled big and waved to make absolutely SURE that I knew that he saw me.  Perfect.  I tried to smile and wave, but I was exploding in sweat... so I think it came out as a grimace.  Awesome.

I put this out of my mind and kept running, trying to imagine myself as someone hardcore and disciplined!  As I wrapped up my run, I realized that I REALLY needed to spit, do something to fix the dryness in my mouth.

Apparently,  I can't run and "hock a loogey" at the same time.

Apparently, I can't "hock a loogey" at all.

So there I was, in the middle of the city, failing at spitting.... picture MuLan.  Except dressed like a glowing snow-man yeti.   I didn't know what to do... except laugh.  So there I was, bright red and purple, trying to manage my half-expelled spit, cackling like a madwoman.

Hartford City, meet Christi Kroll.