I had just finished getting ready this morning, and I was sitting down at my desk to plan my week. I was dressed in my gym clothes, running shoes on, ready to head out as soon as I got a little work done. I heard a knock on our door and my husband talking to our upstairs neighbor. Suddenly I remembered those signs outside along the curb that said "Move your car by 8am Monday morning for street cleaning, or risk being towed." I logged it when I saw those last week, and then it left my brain. Our neighbor was kind enough to let us know that we were two of the three cars left on the street at 9am, and we better get them moved.
I leapt from my desk, ran to the front door, grabbed my keys off the hook. I took the stairs two at a time and was out the door and across the lawn in seconds flat. I jumped in my car, drove around the corner and parked, sprinted back across lawn, skipped all the steps on the front porch, and opened the door. I grabbed my husband's keys as he was coming up the stairs and repeated the whole sequence. I parked his car and charged across the front lawn again, feeling strong AF and wishing I had more cars to move.
I ran back through the door, on fire and happy. "OMG, that was FUN!" I yelled. I sat back down at my desk, weirdly exuberant and thinking I wonder how long that took me?? OMG, RUNNING IS FUN! Oh my god, running is fun. I am 54 years old, and I took off like a bat-out-of-hell, without thinking, to make sure our cars didn't get towed. Because I could. This is what I'm training for--my life. How funny: I train hard because it makes my life easier. My age was irrelevant--I ran hard and strong and leapt and jumped--and saved us $500. (Well, me and my neighbor...). I can figuratively and literally keep building the life I want because I train for that. And, funny enough, that belief in myself that's been slipping away lately--that belief that I can do hard things, that my race goals are a worthy cause--just like that are back on my radar because my car almost got towed and I got to see what I'm made of. I got to see what I'm made of in real life, in all the ways that it matters day to day. I'm thrilled to be able to race the clock and beat the tow truck. I loved running across that lawn as if my life depended on it--feeling strong and ageless and so capable. I keep joking with my daughter that her future little hooligans are going to have to work hard to keep up with Grandma, but damn, maybe that's actually true?
I have my window open and I can hear the beeping of the tow truck outside, and it's taking everything I have to not go out and do a little trash talking. Guess it's time to work on my sports(wo)manship.