some pretty good excuses.

This is one example of how I ain’t in Kansas no more (I’m not saying that Kansas-ites have poor grammer…).

As I’ve liked the idea of liking to jog for some time, I’m trying to muster up the motivation and discipline to actually go out and do it once and awhile...and maybe actually stick with it. This is, in many ways, a really great time of my life to make new habits. That said, it’s also pretty easy to come up with decent excuses for not doing it, too.

1 – Getting out of bed. This excuse shouldn’t work now that sunrise is at 4.55am. But when it was dark, foggy, and blah outside and dark, frigid, and blah inside, it was really difficult to muster motivation. If, however, I actually went out (a handful of times in 3 months), I was able to see the snow-capped mountain turn bright orange in the sunrise when the fog would lift long enough for a peak.
2 – Potholes. I’m getting better, but dodging cars dodging potholes can be a little precarious. On more than one occasion, I’ve been gonked with mud up to my eyebrows. I’m also pretty paranoid about rolling my wussy ankles…
3 – Stray dogs. Some days, it’s “all clear” (cloggies – that’s a roller-skating reference for you). There’s not a dog in sight, or the dogs in sight are with a goat-herder and are well-behaved. But there are the occasional yappy creepy-face dogs that are pretty aggressive. There are also occasional packs of 5-15 dogs (the one time I ran into 12 or so, a nice gent on a bicycle shielded me from them) that show up just enough times for me to carry rocks in my hands. Since learning to not make eye contact, however, I haven’t felt the need to holler and wail like I had done on several occasions.
4 – Honking. Maybe this is a smaller-town thing, but jogging isn’t the time-occupier of choice in this town. I’ve had a policeman stop me and ask me several questions about what the bazooka I’m doing; I’ve had thoughtful, well-meaning people ask me if they can give me a ride to wherever I’m running to. There are also the occasional people who just honk as though I’m wearing a Big Bird costume or something (my response: chin out, nostrils flared, and biceps bulging until I see if they’re noodle-heads or a car-full of waving 6-year-old kids).
5 – Squashed snails. After it rains, snails sneak up on the road just to be absolutely crushed into a really nasty consistency. ew…

That said, there are some really cool things, too. …like getting out of town, seeing sheep, cows, goats, and (gasp!) pigs, smelling cilantro and dill (or whatever they are), hearing frog noises, seeing fields of wild flowers in reds, whites, and purples, waving to shepherdesses and cow-walkers (and now getting at least a smile in return), and getting out far enough to see snow-capped Mt. Lub. (it’s also nice as a newby to running not to constantly get passed and left in the dust by genius runners).

Some of my favorite moments, though, are those that can’t be done back home. For instance, I ran alongside a herd of goats and pretended to race them. The elderly shepherdess guffawed then and now grins enormously when she sees me. Another time, I saw an older gent on a tractor. I looked at him and said, “Ready? 1, 2, 3…GO!” (in albanian), and he totally left me in the dust while he turned back to wave. Maybe I need to be sent back to middle school, but I love this stuff…