San Valentine’s Day
Doc doesn’t like San Valentine’s day. For him, every day is a Valentine’s day BUT Feb 14th, and he loves giving me unexpected presents, big or small, throughout the year.
So, knowing him for so long, I don’t expect a present on Valentine’s day. However, this year, Doc decided to buy me a present probably because he felt guilty that I indeed gave him a Valentine’s present (a gift card for a massage that was inserted in the envelop shown in the picture above).
Therefore, when he announced he was giving me a gift I started brainstorming: a pair of earrings, or a long weekend in the Hawaii, or two tickets for the Coldplay concert, or a skein of precious, soft, and unusual yarn. Nothing like that… my imagination was far from what Doc has in mind… A pair of RUNNING SHOES!!!!
“Doc, this is not a present for me; it’s a present for you. It’s like if you were to buy a LA PERLA lace underwear set for your lover… like if your dad, who loves deep fried food, were to give a deep fry machine to your mom” I told him with a shocking tone in my voice.
“Don’t worry, you’ll like them” Doc said to me.
“Well… Doc.. I appreciate your thought, but… I don’t need running shoes… Remember the 5K run we run two years ago? I almost died… I arrived that I was as red as a chili pepper… My hear was beating so fast that I couldn’t count the beats… I actually would love to dedicate more time to yoga or swimming.”
“You need to train your heart. Your Conconi’s test doesn’t lie: YOU MUST TRAIN!!! You can’t be like that at your age [ok Doc, I am NOT that old…]. You need to do something to think about your future… Yoga is fine but not like an aerobic activity… You must sweat, feel tired, spend calories… you need to feel that sore pain in all the muscles of your body after a serious work out…”
SWEATING… Sore pain… training… just at mentioning those words I tremble… To be honest, a few weeks ago Doc, who did his thesis in Sport Medicine and never stopped working out, performed the Conconi test that showed that my aerobic threshold is at about 185 beats per minute, way too much Doc thinks (just to give an example, his aerobic threshold it at about 160 beats per minute). Therefore, he decided, we need to plan and follow a rigorous “training program” so that my heart can be more efficient.
Taken to a super-fancy store specialized in running where my feet were scrutinized, taped, and analyzed by a computer to show possible defects and therefore decide which the best running shoes are for my feet (and no, I didn’t really feel like Cinderella), I chose a pair of running shoes that Doc enthusiastically paid and gave me as his San Valentine’s present.
“You–Doc stated at the end of the day–before going to sleep should think about where and how long to go running the next day.”
I couldn’t destroy the high aspiration Doc has about my love (or lack thereof) for running and mention that:
1) when I am to go to sleep, I usually think about what I can create with my fabric and yarn stored in my craft room;
2) this training is cutting in my free time, time that I like to dedicate to my creativity in my craft room;
3) when considering working out, I prefer yoga and swimming but also tennis and skiing–these last two performed in optimal conditions of temperature and humidity;
4) in my next life, I want to marry a couch-potato man who is going to spend a lot of time on the couch in front of a TV eating popcorns, chips, and drinking beer (I am pretty sure that in such case, I’ll be an avid marathon runner…)
Now that I have my new running shoes and the Garmin, another tool that Doc gave me for Xmas 2009 and that he considers ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY for a real runner because it tracks the heart rate, the calories, and the speed, I am ready for my serious training and the feeling of sore muscle pain that will permeate my body at the end of the workout.
A special touch of my running shoes is the color of their sole and laces, which reminds me of the color of Tiffany boxes. I have absolutely no outfit that matches that color; therefore, I think that I’ll charge Doc’s credit card for my next shopping.