Lesson learned

I love my husband. All his flaws, all his imperfections I wouldn't change for the world, because they make him perfect for me. I also love running and though I'll never be a Kenyan...damn you genetics!...I enjoy the exercise, the challenge, the ability to just let my mind wonder and listen to the rhythmic footfalls of my feet. Some days I feel like a nice slow easy run. Some days I feel like all out lung bursting sweat soaking run. Some days I feel like scarfing pizza in front of the tv, but more often than not my conscience, which ironically enough sounds just like my husband's voice, wins out and I find myself out the door. Even the runs that I didn't want to run end up being just what I needed, though I didn't know I needed it.

 

To my knowledge my husband has never enjoyed running, in fact I know the opposite to be true. I've heard his horror stories involving his attempts at running, but he's decided to give it another shot. I think it's because he loves me and he wants to share in something that I enjoy or at least I tell myself this. In reality I think it might be because he's planning on flying Kami out here and sending me to Chicago to live with Jeffrey! **These are friends from WoW so please disregard for non-WoW players** It's gotta be another woman, because while I know he adores me I find it hard to believe that he finds my sweat soaked drowned rat red faced look sexy. Because sometimes I smell so much I gag myself. :)

 

So what happens when you combine my two loves...COMEDY GOLD!

 

First, let me give you some background. My husband served in the U.S. Navy. Ever heard the term "cusses like a sailor"? Yeah, they didn't just make that up. So my husband has a colorful vocabulary and he isn't shy. As my poor husband can attest to I used to be incredibly uncomfortable around the use of "bad words". I always assumed it meant you were mad at someone. In reality it's just kind of how some people talk to each other. Now that we've been married three years I've learned to overcome my emotional defect when it comes to cuss words and instead of feeling uncomfortable I often have to suppress giggles because no matter how many times I hear him cuss it still amazes me how versatile the word fuck can be. In my husband's world, it's a noun, a verb, an adjective, etc. and it cracks me up.

As a runner I've been on treadmills, I use them often when I can't get outdoors. I have seen others use treadmills, but I have never seen my husband use one until a few days ago. Let me tell you....I wish I had recorded it.

 

I have never in my life heard anything like it. I was sitting on the couch playing GTA IV while he was in the bedroom doing his daily 2 miles. One word could describe my husband's running style...ambitious. He has no training plan, nothing. He's all about getting faster and faster and at 6'7 he can already kick my ass at a race and I've been running for well over a year and half now. He's not super fast, he's just got a leg span that quite literally eats up the ground at an alarming rate compared to someone with my leg span...I'd be jealous but I've long ago accepted my slowness. Anyways he's pushing himself each time he runs to cut more and more seconds off this time. Here is a breakdown of what I hear coming from the bedroom...

 

*Treadmill starts* - I hear nothing but the whirring of the motor and the thud thud thud of his footsteps until roughly 12 minutes in or so...

then...

 

<insert some heavy breathing>
Fuck this
<insert more heavy breathing>
Fucking treadmill
<heavy breathing, followed by what might be a growling noise>
Fuck
<more growling, more breathing>
Shit, come on
<heavy breathing>
Mother fucker, fuck
<heavy breathing>

 

*Treadmill stops*

 

At this point I'm trying to control my laughter which had me near tears. He comes into the room and I've collected myself enough to look over at him and ask "Did you have a good run?" "Did the treadmill belt slip on you again?"....His response, "NO! But that fucking treadmill control panel rotates between flashing the time, then the distance, then the pace and by the time it got back to show my distance I had already run more than 2 miles and now I don't know how fast I did the two miles in". I was sympathetic, as a runner I know how important time is so I said "Awww honey that sucks" then I made the mistake of asking "So how far did you end up running?"....He said "2.1" and I lost it...I laughed at him.

 

However let me tell you karma's a bitch. Later when I was reading an article I found interesting out loud to him and he kept correcting the words I would pronounce wrong (he is like a human dictionary...it's annoying and he's a freak). When I paused to glare at him and say "Would you stop doing that! You're driving me crazy" he just smiled at me and said "I'm just trying to help you to not look like an idiot when you read" and then he laughed at me....

 

Touché my love, Touché!