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February 3, 2010 / elodie kaye

Fueled by Pez

As we were lacing our shoes, Stella asked me why I run.  Stella is Pez’s best friend, and swimming partner on Mondays and Fridays.  Pez never asks me why I run.  The only thing Pez ever wants to know is when we’re leaving.

Two or three times a week, she and I strap on our Fast Shoes™ and lope out together.  I lead on the road, she leads on the trail.  Our routine is to run slowly for 5 or 7 minutes before taking our first break to stretch.  While I gingerly lean into my Achilles, Pez flops her forehead to her knees and looks past them to the ocean.  Some days we head down to the surf, some days up the trail to the horse pasture, and then around to the estuary.

Running with Pez is less a training exercise, and more adventure tour.  She doesn’t believe in reps of anything week after week.  I think her philosophy is that spontaneity is the best muscle-builder, and she tries to use every unexpected obstacle we encounter.  If we don’t find any, then we must seek them out.  Sometimes she calls for jumping jacks or burpees on the beach, hanging leg raises or a traverse of the monkey bars if we pass a playground, or hop-ups on fallen tree trunks by the trail.  She’s not a tyrannical coach however.  Neither of us can do a chin-up, and that’s okay.  We try it every time to check if we still can’t do one, and run on.

Of the two of us, Pez is the more outgoing one.  Every dog and horse who crosses our path must be greeted, and she has an embarrassing propensity to race anyone who happens to be running in the same direction as we are.  More than once, we’ve inadvertently freaked out the other runner.  The possibility that plyometrics may look silly doesn’t cross her mind either, but her preference is to do them only if our run didn’t bring us any other drills by serendipity. Bunny hops are her favourite.  I like skipping, and fast feet.  Pez can’t skip yet, and she thinks the fast feet are hysterical.

As I paused to consider my response to Stella, Pez looked over at her friend with all the gravity of her 2-year-old wisdom, “You don’t like running?  You’ll see.”

Disclaimer: Only time will tell if I may have birthed the runner in Pez, however I can take no credit for any other of her precocious qualities.



Leave a Comment
  1. Keith Peters / Feb 4 2010 2:31 pm

    This makes more sense after seeing your explanation on dailymile. 🙂

    My daughter’s been under the weather, but doing better now and is itching to go running again this weekend. We’ll go out to the track and see if she can do 1K. I’m doing a 5K sponsored by her school in June, and they have a kid’s 1K where all finishers get a medal. She wants that medal so bad!

    • elodiekaye / Feb 4 2010 3:11 pm

      I knew it would be confusing for you and Sara. I first wrote it in the past tense, but most of it ended up in the past-past tense. That was even more awkward, so I went with simple tenses all around for the sake of better writing.

      Is your family going to spectate at your race? I guess that would be kinda cold for them. Do the kids have to run the whole way for 1K to get the medal?

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