Summer Brain.

Summer brain.  I don't know what you call it, but I call it "summer brain."  You know, when you start getting restless at work somewhere around early May.  Your productivity slows to a halt.  You can't focus... your brain shuts down.  You find yourself staring out your window, wishing you could go enjoy the warmth of the day.  The sun is shining, the grass is green... and you're sure the birds are chirping, though you can't hear them because your window doesn't open.  You look at people outside and shoot them death stares.  You begin to hate children because they get a summer break.  Summer.  What is summer to the working world?  Depression and distraction.  That is summer brain.  

Why do we get summer brain?  I blame the school system.  I went to school for twenty years.  For twenty years, I got summers off... at least to some extent.  You went to school for 9 months, then you got 3 months "off."  That's how it worked.  And, then, you graduated, and somehow you were expected to just magically come up with three extra months of brain activity that never existed before.  Plus, you are expected to be able to put in those extra months during three months that you least want to spend inside.  

Why can't schools have "winter break" instead of "summer break"?  No one cares about being penned up inside during December.  Plus, all the holidays are in the winter: Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's... Veteran's Day, Martin Luther King Day, President's Day... Valentine's Day, Groundhog Day.  What does summer have?  Independence Day.  Much easier to work school around one holiday than, like, ten.  And, don't forget... people are already depressed during the winter!  You are barely making an impact by taking away a winter break once the children become adults.  You aren't ruining the fantastic summer that they could be having.  You are simply making them clean their cars of snow a few extra days.  "Losing" winter is much less traumatic than "losing" summer.  You can't miss something you never had, right?  

I'm sure school breaks were positioned in the summer for lots of good, old-timey reasons.  Like, the young'uns had to be home to help on the farm during the growing season.  Or, it was just too dadgum hot to stick a bunch of kids in a room and expect them to behave.  Fact is, those old-timey reasons just don't stand up anymore.  Get with the times, people!  Summer break is no longer the only way to go.

I advocate that we start "winter break."  Sure, a bunch of kids will hate it at first.  But, eventually they will forget that summer break ever existed, and they will all be saved a load of grief and depression as adults.  And, they would thank us for it.

Together, we can put an end to "summer brain."

I Am Not a Runner.

I am not a runner.  I have short legs.  I'm uncoordinated.  I'm lazy.  All of these things have led me to generally avoid running for the vast majority of my life.  I never did track... I never ran for "fun" (whatever that is) or for exercise.  The only time I ran was laps at volleyball practices.  And, I even hated it then.  It was by far the thing I most dreaded about practice every day.

I have often said that I hate running.  Hate it.  I could not understand why anyone would do it if they didn't have to.  Despite my hatred of running, a few years ago, I got it into my head that I should start running.  Mostly because I couldn't afford a gym, and I had a few months free after my first year of law school.  And I may have gained 15 pounds the first year of law school... and marriage.  So, I convinced myself that I would run around the neighborhood.  Since I am a nerd, I researched running thoroughly to make myself a plan... and so I wouldn't look like an idiot.  I had about a billion things I worried about.  How do you breathe when you run?  Nose or mouth?  Deep or shallow?  What about stride?  Long stride or short stride?  Where should my foot land?  Should I run on the road or the sidewalk?  What side of the road do I run on?  On and on.

When I felt sufficiently versed in the sport of running, I bought myself a pair of running shoes, and I made my plan.  I decided I would try a walk/run approach.  Problem was, I had no idea how far I could run already.  Ok, had to assess my ability.  So, I took off on the first day at a leisurely jog to see how far I could go before I needed to stop.  Hmm.  Two blocks.  Perhaps I was a little more out of shape than I had thought.  Walked two blocks... ran two blocks... walked... ran.  Such it continued, and I was somewhat pleased with myself when I returned 20 minutes later feeling like I was dying.  I figured, runners always look like they're dying... so that was a good sign.  I was becoming a runner!  I kept running, a few times a week, and eventually got to where I could run 4 blocks, walk 1 block.  Yeah, I know, that still sounds pathetic.  Well, I thought I was awesome!  I would always make sure that I would be on the "run" portions when I went by a person... so I felt cool and fit.  I didn't particularly enjoy running, but the competitive spirit within me relished the idea of achieving something.  Problem was... I got bored.  I have a short attention span and get sick of things pretty quickly.  Running wasn't advancing quite as swiftly as I had hoped... and I didn't really feel like I enjoyed it.  I actually kind of dreaded going outside to run.  And thus ended my very short and very sorry attempt at running.  After 3 weeks.  

Last summer, I once again decided that I was going to start running.  I had a gym membership, and I was going to conquer the dreaded treadmill.  I had never in my life stepped foot on a treadmill.  I was terrified of them.  With my astoundingly low level of coordination (that is a story for another blog), I could just picture my feet flying out from under me and landing face first on the tread.  But, I sucked it up and started my walk/run routine once again.  This time, the hubby tried with me, so at least I had someone to try to "beat," which made it a bit more appealing to me.  I eventually got to where I could run an entire mile straight.  Then, hubby stopped going to the gym... and without someone to compete against, running lost all joy and purpose for me.  And, once again, I was done after a month or so.

In January, I made a list of New Year's resolutions.  One of them was to run a race.  This time, I was going to "get serious."  I went and bought new running shoes at a real running store.  I guess I figured that if I invested enough money in running, it would spur me to stick with it.  I bought cute new running clothes.  If I know anything, it's that girls are highly motivated by cute workout clothes.  Then, I started back running at the gym a couple of times a week.  I signed up for a 5k, and hubby signed up too.  I have enough pride to make myself be prepared for something that I've committed to.  So, I had that 5k looming in the future.  When it got warmer outside, I overcame my completely irrational fear of running outdoors (I don't like people watching me... shut up!).  I started running around my neighborhood... zigzagging through the streets, so I would never be too far away from home, you know, in case I got tired and decided to be done with my run.

Well, the 5k came, and I was ready to go.  I got there, and it started raining.  Thundering.  Lightning.  Pouring rain.  So, yes, they canceled the 5k.  I got my t-shirt and my medal, but I felt like a fraud.  I had signed up for my first race... but I hadn't run it... no matter what my awesome medal said.  This was it - my real test of whether I was going to stick with running this time.  This was my "get out of jail free" card.  I could just not sign up for another race.  I could quit!  But, instead, I found myself wanting to sign up for another race.  I had trained for it, dang it, and I wasn't going to let it go to waste!  I wanted to get my "under 30 minutes" goal.  Heck, I even went to the gym the day of the canceled 5k and ran a 5k on the treadmill (despite a fire alarm going off in the middle of it and having to evacuate the building... yes, I have bad luck).

So, riding the momentum of my disappointment from the canceled 5k, I signed up for a new 5k.  Then, I thought, heck, if I can do a 5k, I can do a 10k!  So, now I've signed up for a 10k and am training for that.  I've found, however, that I have to run farther away from my house in order to get a longer run in.  If I'm close by, I will quit before I am actually done.  Because I'm lazy.  If I run far enough away, then I have to run back!  This weekend, I actually ran about 5 miles.  I still have a little trouble believing that I actually did this of my own accord and without being chased or bribed in some way.  And, more troubling still... I actually enjoyed it and didn't feel like death afterward.

Is it possible?  Could I actually enjoy running?  I think the jury is still out on that one.  I enjoy the sense of accomplishment that comes with completing a run... and I like having a goal to train toward.  I know I will be proud to say I ran a 10k after it's done.  But, I am not sure if it's the task that I enjoy... or the accomplishment.

And, I don't know if I can ever call myself a "runner."  I am never running in the rain if I can help it, and sometimes I like to sleep instead of get up to run.  And, I have no desire to ever, ever run a marathon.  Actually, right now, the idea of running more than an hour is kind of nauseating.

So, no, I am not a runner.  I may never describe myself as a runner.  But, I am running.  And, I don't hate it.  Against all odds and expectations... especially my own.