MOVarazzi

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

165. We Broke Up (It Was A Mutual Decision)

So I broke up with my Jogging Club (now known as my “ex”-Jogging Club). We have only had three runs (dates) together, so it’s not like we were super-serious.  I never uttered the word “exclusive” or anything. 

Like the previous two nights-before-a-run, I tossed and turned all night, overcome with anxiety.  How did I get suckered into this crazy realtionship?  You know it is not healthy when
  1. you can't sleep and you actually have nightmares (the moon coming alive like a person and speeding past you taunting “you're the worst runner, ever”, anyone?);
  2. you won't admit that you are secretly scared of the dark;
  3. being around them makes you want to throw up;
  4. you dread seeing them;
  5. you make excuses not to see them;
  6. you would definitely prefer a hot-fudge sundae to every laying eyes on a pair of running shoes again. 
I knew that today was the day, but I couldn’t bring myself to break up over the phone or (worse) by email. I prefer a face-to-face (or in this case, my face to their very fast backsides running away).

We met at our usual time: o’-dark-thirty. I approached Nicole, Jill, and Brianna as I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes. They were perky as usual (how much coffee can one actually ingest before a jog?). They were so cheerful and in the dark (literally) about our relationship, so I decided to wait until the end of the run before breaking the news.  At the very least, I could get one more work-out in.

I gathered my (flickering) courage and said, “I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” What I really meant was, I think I should see my pillow a lot more.

“What?” said Nicole, shocked, “I mean, why? I thought you were having fun! I thought we were having fun! This is completely out of left field!”

Brianna interrupted, “Yeah, this was great! Why would you want out?”

Unlike my feet, my mind was racing. I stammered, “I, uh, uh......it’s not you, it’s me,” even though I knew it was a cliché, even though I knew it was not true: it was them.

I continued, “It’s just……well, I think we have different needs,” as in, their need for waking up at 5 AM and my (silly/ unnecessary/ selfish) need for sleep.

“But we were just getting to know each other!” added Jill, a little too quickly (the phrase “misery loves company” again sprang to mind).

“I know, I know, you guys are great. Honest. I just feel like, well, we are at different places in our lives……..” my voice trailed off. The rest of my thought was: you like to run, and I like to press the snooze button and go back to sleep (to finish my fun dream about angry moons chasing me).

Nicole said (with a touch of desperation in her voice) “That’s okay, we understand. It’s fine. Hey! We can still run together on week-ends! We can run at 6 or even 7 AM if it's a week-end!” This, as we all know, is the equivalent of “we can still be friends”. Uh, no, we can’t. I am breaking up with you, dear Jogging Club, as much as I love you and respect you and want to be like you, I am just not ____________ (insert name of famous runner here, Carl Somebody? See, how pathetic I am? I don’t even know the name of the runners I should be inspired by).

Then Jill had a brilliant idea, “You know, we can get together in the spring,” why, Jill, is that Prom? “you can run with us at 5 AM because it will already be light out. That makes a big difference.” (Is she psychic?  Does she see right through my fear of the dark?)

“Sure, Jill, sure. That sounds like a great idea. I have your email and your cell number, I'll call you.”

And just like that, I won’t.

MOV
(“Misery Or Vigor”)

Disclaimer to the wonderful Jogging Club who could very well be reading this: you guys are great. I am just making fun of the situation and myself and if I didn’t work nights at the high-end kitchen store, I would totally be committed to running with you. Really. Call me.

1 comment:

  1. This totally happened to me too... These girls were CRAZY runners. I am a slow jogger. And there is a big, huge, gimormous difference. I would meet them at 5 am and we would run thru one of the scarier parks in town. And I would be in the back. Just like the weak gazelles in the nature shows. The ones that get picked off by the lions. My relationship was short lived also. Now Zumba? A much more satisfying union. And we were even together for short time during my pregnancy. My latin love...

    ReplyDelete

When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)