On running and jazz music

I have this theory about running and jazz music: no one really likes either one of them. Oh, sure, they say they do. But I think people like to be known as a person who likes jazz music, or who likes to run much more than they actually like either of them.
(I’m mostly joking about jazz music, although I’m not really a fan. If you’re a person who likes to listen to jazz music while running, leave a comment, I’d like to hear how that works).
Anyway, let me speak for myself: I don’t like to run. Even as a high school soccer player, I didn’t like it. (My coach once told me I should consider a sport with less running.)
Running doesn’t feel good. At least, in the shape I’m in currently, it doesn’t feel good. It makes my chest and and legs hurt. Plus I don’t like people watching me run, and that’s impossible to avoid on the route I take.
I don’t like running, but I like the way I feel afterwards. I like the sweaty, endorphin-filled feeling of accomplishment I get after a good run, or even a decent one. So I drag myself out of bed early in the morning, put my earbuds in and head out to the Boulevard.
I’m hoping that running is like other things in life that get easier the more you do them. That eventually, even if I don’t love it, I won’t hate running. I’ve heard of people who get a certain kind of high while running, but that seems like to much to hope for at this point.
So I’m planning to run a 5k or two this fall/winter and hoping the pressure of having a race planned will be enough motivation for me to keep getting up, putting on my running shoes and hitting the pavement.

About the baby pictures…I can explain

If you’re following my Instagram feed or other forms of social media, I’d like to offer a sort of a apology and a brag all rolled into one. It seems that baby pictures have taken over in the few weeks since my niece was born. People who show off baby pictures to other people always kind of annoyed me — until I became one of them. Maybe I’m a little biased but my newest niece is possibly the cutest baby I’ve ever seen. (I can say that without showing favoritism; I didn’t know the other two when they were babies).

Maybe beauty is in the eye of the beholder, though. The other day my boss asked how my sister was doing after she had complications after an emergency c-session. I said she was doing much better and offered to show him a baby pic. Everyone else had made ooh and aww sounds, but but he kind of gasped.  (To be fair, the first picture I came across, and showed him, was of her red in the face from screaming her lungs out).

“Ya know, when my daughter was born I kept showing pictures of her to people and everyone admired them until I showed them to (one of our most outspoken former coworkers) and she made a comment about her not being very cute,” he said. “I couldn’t believe she said it at the time but then about five years later I went back and looked and had to admit she was right. I think all babies look like tiny, bald old men.”

Anyway, you can be the judge of that. I like having nieces (and I’m sure I’d like nephews just as much) because you can play with them or have all the baby cuddles you want and at the end of the day you hand them back to their parents to do the hard work. A friend must have noticed all the baby pictures on my posts and asked me the other day if I had “baby fever.” Maybe a little, I conceded. But it will definitely pass.

You can see pictures of Addy in my Instagram feed, also on this page.