Peace and Quiet is tough to come by.

Race and I have been fighting for time together recently. These KIDS. These teens and tweens are like vultures. They're ALWAYS HERE. I mentioned before that we are taking a short hiatus from most of their activities, to sort of unwid a bit. But I think we have to start things back up sooner than planned.
They have begun to catch on to the fact that we enjoy being alone occasionally, so they try to swarm around us annoyingly, hoping that we will give in and send them off to do something that we had previously ruled against them doing.
We only allow X Box playing Saturday through Sunday after chores. TV is only after dinner and clean-up.

Stupid rules.

Anyway, we've gotten desperate for a little peace and quiet together, so we've begun to do the unthinkable.

We're RUNNING together.
Regularly.

Now normally, you couldn't make me run with ANYONE. Not even Jack Bauer.
Well, O.k., yeah, Jack Bauer. But as a general rule I HATE running.

Now, recently a few things have caused significant changes to this rule:

1. The aforementioned desperate need to spend a little one on one time with the Ultimate Alpha Male that *is* Race.

2. I'm gettin' close to 40 and let's just say.............. it ain't all stayin' where it used to stay. There seems to be....a SLIDING effect, if you will.

3. I would like to have a butt that is still recognizable as such.

and

4. I would like to be able to eat. (see #3)

So we are running together.

Here is where the vast and undeniable differences between Race and myself come though loud and clear.

I'm good with 2 miles. A two mile run is GREAT.
If 2 miles will enable me to accomplish #'s 3 and 4 on my list then I'm good with that. And my current pace is fine too. I see no need to go further or faster if #'s 3 and 4 are being accomplished.

But, not Race.

My lovely 2 mile run on the road has turned into a gruelling cross country race through the backwoods of this county. Up the steepest hills, down the deepest ravines, across creeks, over logs, through mud. The first day he suggested this I almost hurled just at the thought of it. Terrifying. And he times it.

Crazy thing is, I've come to actually look forward to it. When we first began this crazyness, I wouldn't whine simply because I couldn't spare the oxygen to do so. Now, I don't even think about whining. I kinda like it.

I run a little behind Race. And I'm not gonna lie to ya. I like the view. (And I find it hard to concentrate if someone could be looking at my butt while I run, so this is better. I have issues. See #3)

When we come to the big, freezing cold, creek, Race lets me hop on his back to get across. (Less because he cares about me getting wet, and more because he's the only one with Gore-Tex running shoes and he knows I'd never go the rest of the way with cold, wet, feet.)

And on a really good day, when the planets are all correctly alligned, and I'm well hydrated, and he's a little tired.... we will be running up the gigantic, killer hill that is our finish, and I'll find that extra push and go neck-in-neck with Race to the finish.

And then it happens.

My very toughest audience in the world will hit me on the butt and say, "You're a beast!" Which, in Race speak means, "Good job hon, I'm so proud of you."

And there are no noisy teens and tweens around to laugh hysterically or imitate me running up the hill over and over.

And that makes me want to give it a try again tomorrow.

Cheers!
Melissa