These things you do to me

Alright nerds, let’s get to it.

(Nerd, being of course, the highest honour I could ever bestow, so please don’t take it as an insult.)

Today I ate the most delicious of lunches – the grilled cheese sandwich and salad combination from Burgoo – only to have it pretty much destroy me for the rest of the afternoon.

(Goodness knows that we humans were not built for that much melted dairy. Thank sweet mother of pearl that my meal did in fact come with a green salad, as a good deal of roughage is more than necessary when eating en entire wheel of Gruyere.)

Anywho, I arrived back home feeling pretty wretched: my pants felt like they were glued to my legs, my sweater was itching the back of my neck, and overall I just felt uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and hot.

(And not in the sense that I am used to, what with my incredible good looks and overall nubile-ness. Nubile-ity?)

Either way, I figured the best thing to do to try and flush the excess cheese from my system was to get back outside and go for a run.

And this, folks, was hard.

Because all I really wanted to do wasjust  take off my pants and lie down on the couch for the remainder of my days.

Yet somehow I did manage to muster up enough energy to schlep myself upstairs, and slither into my running gear.

Once I took off all I could really think about was how much I was already looking forward to the run being over.

Nothing felt like it should – my legs felt heavy and my shirt too tight. Even my sweet new running playlist couldn’t break through my mental melancholy.

I figured I would run 5k and just be done with it. I had completed a very fast 7k yesterday, and an even faster 6k the day before, so today would just be a wash and I could start anew tomorrow.

However,once I got to the turnaround at 4k I decided at the last minute that I would do one more half loop and stop at the ‘work out area’ of the park and do a few resistance supersets (jump squats and chin-ups and the like.)

As soon as I arrived at the monkey bars I chastised myself for not just heading home. I absolutely hate strength training if I’m not giving it 100 per cent, and I had a pretty strong inkling that this time I would just be phoning it in.

However, I did give it a go, starting with the bars (Tough Mudder training!) before moving on to the next exercise. As I finished my first round of push-ups, an elderly gentleman approached and told me in his broken English how impressed he was with my efforts.

I was a little taken aback, what with how focused I was on the actual workout, that I never really formulated a coherent response to his words.

He continued on with his stretching and I continued with my circuit.

After my last set of chin-ups he approached again and asked me (while gesturing at the bar) “10? You 10?”

“8,” I replied breathless.

“8! Wow!” he exclaimed. “Very, very good!”

My heart nearly melted out of my chest.

With those five simple words, this man just completely turned my day around and I felt like my smile would force my face to crack in two.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed.

He smiled back.

As I finished up, he moved on to the balance beam, and I watched him stand for as long as he could on one foot, before switching to the other.

I made sure to wait until he turned around, so at the very least I could wave goodbye before I left.

For the last kilometer home I ran with a renewed gusto. I smiled at everyone I passed – runners, walkers, dogs, kids – everyone was gifted with my goofy, grinning face.

So I would like to thank that man.

For reminding me that we have the capacity to do so much good, even at the most simple and basic level.

And the next time I eat a grilled cheese sandwich I will think of him.

Which might be a little cheesey.

But that’s okay.

Especially if it comes with a salad.

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