I'm giving it until July.
Good news. Since owning the awesome elliptical, I'm down 3 lbs. BAM! My motivation is sky high and I've kept up my running regime as well. In fact, today I hit the pavement as it was a balmy 40 degrees outside. And I've decided that 40 degrees is probably a near perfect temperature for running. Not too hot, not too cold. I know that 40 may sound pretty cold, but when you're churning and burning on the pavement, it feels just right.
What was slightly annoying was the inconsistency in shoveled and salted sidewalk. For every 6 houses that properly maintain the sidewalk outside their home, there's one idiot who does not, therefore putting me in a precarious position. I realize if I continue my running that I might need to invest in some traction device. Anyhow, I made it my 2.5 mile run without any issues.
When I rounded back into my neighborhood, I passed another runner. I had headphones in, but he did not. Observance: when runners pass each other they give an acknowledgement. A raised chin, slight wave of the hand, perhaps even a quick nod and smile. When I passed the other runner today, we both smiled and gave quick waves to each other. I had no idea who he was, in fact I'd never seen him before in my life. Nevertheless, we were both pounding the pavement, and therefore part of the same world.
This same phenomenon of acknowledgment happens in other places. Many moons ago when Big Red and I were just dating, we took a motorcycle safety class together. He already knew how to ride but never officially obtained the license to do so. I was a newbie and wanted to learn. After several class and passed written and motorcycle riding exams, we were granted the licenses to ride on the road. On my first ride out, I passed another rider. A big hairy dude on a big loud Harley. As we passed each other, he stuck out his hand in a deliberate wave. He acknowledged ME, a chick on a bike! Who wasn't even riding a respectable Harley!! I was so excited when we got back to the house and deposited the borrowed bikes back in Big Red's uncle's garage. I told Uncle J. all about it. He, an experienced rider, just laughed and said, "Yeah, that's how we do it. You're part of the club now."
I like it. You know I was part of "clubs," aka team sports, throughout my childhood and into college. Once I retired my cleats (soccer), I went into individualized activities: a marathon, triathlons, etc. I enjoyed relying only on myself and having no pressure from a coach or other teammates. There was no one to let down but myself, nor was there anyone to draw strength from but myself. I liked it a lot. I quite enjoy the solitary act of challenging myself.
I will concede though, that it is nice, even in moments of singularity, to have someone else wave at you.