Kickin' It

So, I kicked the hills butt. Yeah. Kicked it. I ran up it. I ran up it FOUR TIMES.

To be perfectly honest, I should probably admit that my running looks more like a jog. Okay, more like a water buffalo jog. Oh alright! It looks more like a wounded, water buffalo jog.

When I’m not in town making my walking buddy take the hills, I either walk my road which is gravel & hilly, or I torture myself with Winsor Pilates and/or Crunch aerobics. Yesterday was a road day and Beloved, since he was off work and doing nothing, decided to join me.

“I won’t go the entire 45-minutes. I don’t want to,” he smiled.

Whateveh…

My route is pretty simple: walk to the mail box, slap it, turn and walk to the driveway, run from driveway to barn, walk from barn up hill to first telephone pole, and return to mailbox. Repeat. Because it’s a country road it isn’t always very flat. I prefer to walk on the right side of the road because it doesn’t slant.

“Trade me sides,” Beloved says.

“I don’t like the left side. It’s slanty.” I reply

“I know…”replies my Beloved.

Beloved is in pretty good shape but he could afford to lose some weight (his words, not mine). His job is very physically demanding and I knew he could out walk, out run, out everything me. So when he complained about the slanty side of the road, I kinda chuckled. Okay, I laughed, but I switched sides with him.

We finished our second lap and were on our way to the driveway when Beloved said, “Let’s run from the barn to the telephone pole.”

Up hill?

He wants me to run up hill? Is he on crack?

Has he forgotten who he’s married to? I’m short and I’m overweight. I run like a water buffalo, an injured water buffalo.



Run up the hill…

I love a challenge.

So I kicked the hills butt. I ran up the hill Quasimodo style, but I did it. I did it three more times. We ended with a total time of 50 minutes (yeah me!).

This morning as Beloved left for work he said, “Ouch! My calves hurt.”

I just smiled. Poor Beloved. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that mine didn’t.