When I was in high school, a friend of mine (she knows who she is...see title) told me that I run like Pee Wee Herman. I didn’t think I ran like Pee Wee Herman, I thought I was running rather sexy . I guess I wasn’t. Who knew?
Twenty plus years later, I’m still affected by that statement and so the thought of running in public scares the bejebbies out of me. Will people point and laugh? My husband says there’s a very good chance of that happening. He also says that I need to get over it. Easy for him to say--the long-legged-built for running-freak of nature.
I’ll be standing at the corner with my husband, waiting to cross the street when he will yell, “Go!” and then take off in a fine gated sprint. “Run! Pick up your feet!” Not gonna happen. I don’t run. Not even for cars that are approaching at incredibly fast speeds. I have yet to be hit by a vehicle, so I figure whatever I’m doing is working just fine. Besides, he is always telling me to run across the street when I am wearing the least type of running shoe there is (high heeled boots or flip flops). If I were to even attempt to run wearing either of these kinds of shoes, my Pee Wee Herman like running would surely be magnified. Stop telling me to run across the street. I will get there when I get there.
So, I am a D+ sized woman with a Pee Wee Herman running stance—fantastic. Where is the silver lining in this bizarre cloud? I’m not sure there is one—comedy relief for my Ragnar teammates, maybe. Really, it’s all good. I’m a 37 year old woman and it is about time I do “get over it.” Who cares, right? I’m going to do this thing, and I’m going to make people everywhere who run like Pee Wee Herman proud!
(Please note: I in no way endorse or condone Pee Wee Herman or his behavior in any kind of fashion. Think of him as you will).