So, I went for a run with my dog Ginger last night and when I got to a stoplight and pressed the button to cross, a guy in a car pulled up and leered at me. To my great surprise, my first thought was, "I've still got it."
It was a seriously comical thought because 1.) this was probably the kind of guy who would leer at anything (for all I know, he was actually leering at Ginger, and eeeuuuuwww), and 2.) I haven't felt like I've "still got it" for a loooooong time. I don't know that I ever really had "it." And if I did ever have "it", when did I lose "it"? I just turned forty, and I don't feel old. Not that old. I remember being twelve and thinking forty was OLD! Maybe this milestone birthday is just now catching up to me, but when did my body start to become matronly? When did I start making the shift from Baywatch to Murder She Wrote? Okay, I was never Pamela Anderson by any stretch of the imagination, but I'd like to spend a little more time on that end of the spectrum before I swing over to Golden Girl.
And as I'm pondering these things, I start realizing that the hills on this run are beginning to get to me. And the music I'm listening to has switched from Destiny's Child to Dave Brubeck and then Steely Dan. Oh dear. Can I actually hear my knees over the sound of my iPod? Wait, I didn't realize I had *Glen Campbell on this thing... Can SOMEBODY get me a walker???
I was feeling pretty pathetic at this point. I was hot and tired and feeling old and sorry for myself.
And then Outkast came on and all bets were off.
Even the dog couldn't keep up with me.
Awright awright awright awright awright awright awright awright okay now ladies... And I shook it like a Polaroid picture.
Later in the run we saw some deer. We have some serious neighborhood deer that are up at all hours, which I think is weird. I thought deer had a strict bedtime of dawn or something and they only really played (you know, with the antelope) at dusk and in the evening. Not these deer. They also are not terribly afraid of people (and, unfortunately, cars), so you can pretty much walk right up to them and have a conversation, and they just don't care enough to be bothered to move.
So we pass one of the insomniac deer and instead of running from us or even just standing there, she starts to follow us. Slowly at first, but then she picks up the pace. Soon, she's trotting pretty quickly right behind us. While the small child in me is delighted that we are sharing our run with a deer, the dog-parent in me is starting to become very concerned that a deer is about to attack and I'm going to have to take some kind of evasive action. What is the protocol when one is attacked by a deer? Do you just hunker down and protect your dog with your body? Do you fight back? What will the neighbors say if you're caught punching a deer? That certainly won't improve my status as an animal lover.
About twenty feet later, we passed by a garbage can, behind which were two of the cutest little tiny-baby deer imaginable. Just standing there looking at us. No fear at all. Ginger and I passed them and, whether because she was relieved that we weren't going to harm her babies, or she was just done running with us, the deer stopped and went back to just standing in the lawn. Ginger missed the whole thing. She doesn't usually notice deer. For a smart girl, she's not very observant.
The rest of our run was fairly uneventful. We finished on a downhill. We stretched. We drank a LOT of water. I felt a little better about myself for having run.
I've still got it.
* I do not actually have Glen Campbell on my iPod.