Run, Fizzy, Run

Hello my loves!

For one fateful semester in college, I was an English Teaching major. My first day in class, I was determined to make friends at my new school and heard these folks behind me talking about being on the track team.

I turned around and said, “I’ve never understood running for sport. I’m in no hurry to get anywhere.”

Worst. Opener. EVER.

Now you know why I’ve never had friends. Literally no one in that class ever spoke to me after that. (Blame them, I do not.)

But my mantra was solid. I’ve never been a runner. I hate running. Hate it. It’s all sweaty and panting and I’ve got big ol’ knockers that can’t be contained by any sports bra.

I’m really more of a yoga gal.

And for years, I would do yoga and say, spinning, or walking on a treadmill for cardio. It was always for weight loss on the cardio. Yoga because, well…

When I was pregnant with my daughter, I tried to keep up my casual workouts. I wildly under estimated exactly how hard it was to grow a whole human and one day fell asleep while using the treadmill.

Only woke up when I got tossed off into the wall of our den.

Thus ended my relationship with consistent fitness.

I tried to jump back in, again, for weight loss, after the tots were born, but honestly, I would rather spend their nap times trying to make up for some of the ZERO sleep I was getting at night.

Last year, I had a heart attack. It blew. And while I was determined to, you know, not die from another heart attack, I gave myself a break because my heart had actually been super healthy when it happened. The whole situation went down due to a bad reaction to a new medication. I sort of took that as my life was probably fine as is, and hey, quirkier shit had happened.

A few months ago, my uncle died.

What was surreal, and I mean, surreal, guys, was that he went down in a severe version of what I’d just been through. I’d had a heart attack and a wee bit of damage to my brain in the process. He had a heart attack and brain damage so severe he would never wake up again.

And I sat there beside him for days playing that over and over in my head. I mean, don’t misunderstand me, I knew that a heart attack wasn’t something to just laugh off, but that’s kind of the path I took. I deal with things with humor.

But it occurred to me that perhaps I hadn’t had the “Come to Jesus” moment I maybe should have.

A little over a month ago, I did the unthinkable: I begged my husband to drag the treadmill back into the house.

He thought I wanted to lose the last ten pounds.

I told him I didn’t want to die.

While that sounds dramatic, (A rarity for me, I know.) I meant it. I watched my uncle die in a way I never, ever want to go if I have any say in the matter.

And so, with permission from my doctors, I started working out again.

If you’re expecting me to regale you with tales of how glorious I feel now that I’m running regularly, YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN.

I super hate it. I hate it so much.

It’s sweaty. Seriously, I sweat like a farm beast. The hell can anyone sweat this much? My knees hurt. My heart skips like a motherfucker and I daily assume I’m going to die. It’s not cute.

And even though losing weight isn’t on my radar right now, I did notice I gained three pounds after the first three weeks because bodies are HILARIOUS.

I’m not the person who will ever gleefully grab my sneaks and ask if anyone wants to join me. I will not be running in a marathon. I will not have one of those bumper stickers with my mileage or whatever on it.

But I do it. 4-6 times a week, I do it.

I find my motivations. I make fun playlists full of Pink and Spice Girls and what not. I dance while I run. I put up a motivating view of cardboard cutouts. Castiel and Sherlock, if you’re curious.

I even added weights. I’m that asshole who runs with fucking weights.

Today I ran with lady cramps that could fell a rhino. But I still ran.


Most of my friends have respond with, “WHO ARE YOU!?” when I miss messages or calls because I was going for a run. (They’re right to question. I always assumed this is how people would discover I’d been taken over by pod people.)

Back in college, I said I was in no hurry to get anywhere and that’s why I didn’t run.

Now, well, now I’m in no hurry to go, and that’s why I run.

I know that I have absolutely no say in how I’m going to leave this earth one day. Could be another heart attack. Could be a meteor. Not a clue.

But I do want to feel like I’ve done what I can to hang on as long as possible. I want to do my best.

Not to sound all overly silver linings, but this has been a boost for my kids, as well. They know Mommy is prancing about because she wants her heart to be strong. And they also think the treadmill is the greatest thing ever created. Every night they come in and take turns back and forth going for kidlet jogs.

We also sit and watch that Ok-Go music video together and try to recreate the moves. It’s going to end well, I assume.

And okay, maybe I can’t say for sure how I will go, but if I had to bet money, I’d put the big bucks on my death coming about from massive internal injuries sustained from being thrown off the treadmill while DANCING LIKE AN ABSOLUTE MORON.

Sounds about right, really.

I hope you all are well and wonderful!

Until next time,

Peace, Love, and Spice Girls FOREVAR



  1. Fear of death is definitely a thing that gets stronger again once you have little people to look after. Good on you for taking the treadmill by the horns … so to speak. 🙂

  2. I think you are amazing! I also hate running, but am trying to be healthier. Let me know if you ever want to go for a run…or better yet, a walk!

  3. I’m one of those goobers who likes to sweat and workout. I know. *shrug* But sweat is bad stuff leaving the body. And bravo for doing it and finding a way to smile. You only get one shot at this life thing.

    • I am so jealous of this! I wish I loved it!

      Some days I don’t hate it as much, and generally halfway through a workout I have a good five minutes where I am PUMPED and pushing myself even harder.

      Then it ends and I want to set my treadmill on fire a little bit…

  4. You always make me smile. I love your writing style, your wit, and your candor. I love that I just used the word ‘candor’. Please do stay on the plant as long as possible.

  5. On the plant? haha. On the planet. Please do stay on the planet as long as possible.

  6. Have you tried the Zombies, Run! app? It tells an ongoing story of the zombie apocalypse while you work out. Every time I try running again, it’s because I want to know what happens in the Zombies, Run! universe. 😀

  7. Simply THE BEST reason to run I’ve ever read. In case someone hasn’t told you lately, you rock.
    Run Fizzy, Run!

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