larissa takes up running.

This fall, I decided to take up running.

I wanted to become a part of that everlasting building block of fitness and health. The world was my racetrack, and I was ready for it.

From the first (winded and aching) day, I was a fan. It was fantastic exercise… so simple in concept and yet so challenging bodily.

I also liked the privacy. Not being the most athletic of girls my age, I’ve shied away from the gym long ago. One look at the fabutanned, spandex-laminated masses of rippling muscle on either side of my treadmill, and I was outta there.

Going for a jog in the neighbourhood was refreshingly different. Not the slightest probability of embarrassment.

Or so I thought.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary to pass others on the trail in the morning. Fellow joggers, couples out for a morning walk… This particular morning, I was about to cross paths with an older man walking his two beautiful golden retrievers.

I said good morning, and stopped to pet the friendly canines.

I should probably mention that this morning was particularly frosty. Crisp air, clear sky.

But it still took me completely by surprise when, bending over to give one of the dogs a pat, a stream of snot dripped from my nose right on the dog’s forehead.

“Oops,” I said. An awkward silence ensued. It was obvious what had happened. The clear gob was shining in the sunlight. I brushed at it feebly with my mitten.

We parted ways in total silence.

The next day, the same party of three was on the trail. Before we could cross paths, the older man cut into the field, clearly avoiding another encounter.

It hurt.

I’ve since taken an intermission from running (I’m currently on the living-room pilates program). I suppose I’ll get back into it once I can properly disguise my identity with toques and scarves. But one thing is for sure: my pockets will be STUFFED with Kleenex.