You’ll suggest a goal, I’ll back it off a tad. I’m willing to let you push me. But only so much (the foreshadowing here is that you’ll probably still get me to run more than I planned to.)
I’ll arrive at your abode, we’ll catch up for a few minutes. We’ll both be thinking well what if we just stay home and have a beer and spy on the neighbors. I’ll be thinking it more. And it’ll only be a passing thought for you. But neither of us will say it because we both know we’ll be happier if we just go.
We’ll start out running. I don’t have high hopes, but you do. We’ll chat a little and then the hills will catch up to me and I’ll be willing to listen, and will enjoy the stories but will only be able to gasp out short replies. And laughing? Ain’t nobody got breath for that.
I will want to die part way through. You will be cheering and singing and waving your arms around. And I’ll see how slow you’re running and look at my watch and see our pace, but I will be maxed out and thankfully we have an unspoken agreement that I’ll let you push me on time and/or distance, but I can only run so fast right now. Also, I’ll mostly appreciate your cheering. But a little sliver of me will be mad that I don’t have that much running fitness. But I know that the more we run, the closer I get. When we started we ran 4 minute intervals. We’re up to 10. I’m counting that as a victory.
We’ll get near the end of the workout and I’ll want to quit. This doesn’t always happen. I mean, yes, who doesn’t want to just slow down to a crawl. But on the nights when I want to quit, I will want to quite bad. Real real bad. I’ll lean on you to get through the runner’s wall. Except I’ll be silent. Because, hello? Hurts so bad. But you’re good. You’ll push and push and push. And I’ll try to zone in. And we’ll get it down.
I’ll look at my watch. We have 1 minute left. 1 minute until the end of the workout. Except you’re tricky and you’ll make me go further. And I will. But. A gap will probably form between the two of us as you pull away. You’ll double back and then you’ll slow down and I’ll try really hard to keep up. But while there’s a gap between us, I will absolutely yell “I hate you”. In front of your entire neighborhood. I won’t mean it in 5 minutes, I’ll even retroactively retract it, but oh, do I mean it then and there.
We’ll make it back to your house. I’ll want to just pass out on your lawn. But it’s time for dinner. I’ll make a bit of a mess in your kitchen, though dinner will be quite tasty, if I do say so myself.
And then I’ll drop a water bottle on your dog and spill 700 mL of water all over her and the kitchen. Yay I’m such a good friend.
You’ll invite me back. Friend love has no bounds
Hearts and runner friends!
your friend sounds awesome. and her poor dog! i wonder if she will get over the terror of water being dumped on her.
I, too, love to hate running with her. Miss you both! Liz, you are a rockstar!