Runfuckning

I know, it's been awhile since I've blogged about running. I think I've been following the old adage of "if you don't have anything nice to say...don't say anything at all." Well, enough of you complained about my lack of blog, so here you go.

For about a month I hated running. Yes, I know, hate is a strong word. There's really no other word to describe what I was feeling towards running. If I could get away with it, I'd invent a new swear word just for running. Something like runfuckning. Or runloathning.

Why did I hate running so much? Because running had become a second job. Everyday at 5:00 I dreaded the thought that in 1 hour I would be running. Shouldn't I have rejoiced in the fact that I was off work and ready to enjoy my "me" time? Well stupid "me" had applied for an after hours job - one I didn't even get paid for! Running...grumble grumble.

But then there was light...

Someone has made a deposit in the motivation bank 'o' Brooke. Not sure who. DyLon? Reid? Miriam? Heather? Regardless of who, I feel my motivation picking up again. Why? It's as simple as music. Don't leave home without it.

My sister-in-law Heather bought me a running fanny pack as a bridesmaid gift. Okay, I don't think it is really called a fanny pack, but that's what it looks like. DyLon had been grumbling that I didn't carry any sort of identification with me when I ran - what would happen if a bus hit me? How would people know who I was? Dental records, I presume.
Anyway, he must have grumbled enough to Heather who bought me the butt bag. Yeah, butt bag, that sounds better. So now I have a place for identification, my Zune MP3 player, and my key. *Cue angles singing on high now* BEST INVENTION FOR RUNNING! I've been cranking TOOL (anyone that knows me right now is saying 'duh') and System of a Down. Their fast paced music is like mental crank for your motivation.

So now I kind of like running again. I think I could probably endure much worse types of torture, other than running, as long as I was listening to TOOL or some other fast paced metal music. Okay...stop right there you ninnies that think listening to TOOL is a form of torture. Your patronage belongs on the blogs of Martha Stewart, Bob the Builder, or Bea Arthur (too soon to joke?), not here.

So, I've picked up my pace again. I'm feeling more positive about this whole running thing. But I still haven't figured out the dang snot thing...

Peace.