I love my family, really do, so all I'll say regarding the topics "Family" and "Holidays" is thank God I got out for a couple of runs last week.
My running is still in maintenance mode but I'll take whatever I can get just to get out the door. What was great this past month is that I was able to resume my pseudo-annual tradition* of getting out for a jaunt on Thanksgiving and Christmas. The traffic's lighter, the air is crisp and cool, and it seems there is a heightened sense of camaraderie with the other runners out on the sidewalks and trails. Each time you pass a fellow runner, there's an exchange of knowing nods, as if to say, "we could be stuffing our faces with gravy-slathered proteins and multiple varieties of pies right now, but we are running instead (or so that we can commence with the face-stuffing later.)"
*when not experiencing first-trimester funsies like gagging at everything or needing to sleep 14 hours a day.
This year, getting out for my Christmas run was especially appreciated. It was a chance to step away from the awkwardness of my blunt, inappropriate family conversing with my husband's reserved, overly-polite family. The baby - the universal buffer for uncomfortable family situations - was sleeping, and I was in no mood to deal with the carnage of wrapping paper and ribbon barfed up all over my living room floor. The men would watch their Celtics game, the women would discuss safe topics such as cooking or after-Christmas sales, and I would get my run. Even if it was only 5 miles, run a bit too hard for the hills and the fact that my feet hadn't seen actual pavement for several days, it was a much-needed reprieve.
Of course, my mother thinks I'm nuts and that I'm addicted to exercise. But I think, by nature, she has to be worried about someone. That, or she just enjoyed me more when I was large and raiding her cabinet for cookies.
Well for the holidays, I did eat those cookies, but I ran them off, too. With the calories, I burned stress, anxiety, frustration, and every other negative emotion that manifests from too much vomit-enducing tinsel and Barry Manilow.
Happy Holidays, everyone. Hope you enjoyed it and got some good runs in, too.