Sit Next to Me at Your Own Peril

Yesterday afternoon at our children's swim team practice, a friend and I talked about the start of year-round school that began last week.  Our children's school is very good, but we began talking about the negative aspects associated with our children's particular schedule.

We changed the subject to be positive, and she was excited to tell me about her splurge on a personal training session that morning.  To keep up her level of motivation and to make progress, she said that her trainer advised her to "exercise first thing in the morning with a friend who is better than me."

I knew what she meant.  I asked her how far she can run, and she said two miles.   Then I told her that I would be running on a half mile loop with a group of motivated women early the next morning, and that she should join us.

"I could never run that fast," she said.

I swiftly challenged her with, "How do you know?  Have you ever tried?"

Then our conversation was interrupted and discontinued, and she had to leave.  On my way home, I stopped at her house to tell her that I would pick her up to carpool in the morning.  She didn't think that would work because she stays up late.  I told her that I do, too.

Then I told her, "This is what is going to happen: You are going to try to go to sleep early, and you won't be able.  Then while you sleep, you will dream about oversleeping or being late in the morning.  Then I will pick you up at 5:15AM."  And I added,  jokingly, "Don't make me beep my horn because the neighbors won't like me."

On the way to the run, I explained that all of us would do our own speed workout with the option to add upper body strength training.  I also mentioned that I find it challenging to meet so early in the morning, but I do it when I am in training because these runners are "better than me."  And, I choose races to train for because without the incentive, I would not push myself.  When our group of eight assembled before sunrise, my friend smiled broadly when she recognized three other familiar faces.  She already knew half of the group.

We all went about our workouts. I tried to catch up to my friend during a loop after falling behind to adjust my Gatorade stash, and I couldn't catch her.

Later, just before parting, she said casually, "I guess I'll see you next week."

My hunch is that my friend will begin to call herself a runner in the near future.