Confirmed: Sunglasses can make a better runner.
After pulling into the parking lot at today’s running location, I realized with an unpleasant jolt that my sunglasses were apparently still sitting on the table at home.
Reasons this was problematic:
- It’s bright out.
- WITHOUT MY SUNGLASSES I CAN’T LOOK INTIMIDATING AND COOL.
Anybody have pets who used these things? I had a dearly beloved hamster. He did have one of these ball things to play in. Story for another day.
But, back to my predicament.
I checked my glove compartment in hopes that a rogue pair of backup sunglasses might be dutifully awaiting their day of glory when a mental lapse like this occurred.
No knight-in-shining-armor backup sunglasses could be located. Not in the glove compartment. Not in the middle thingy between the front seats. Not in the trunk. Not on the body in the trunk. Just kidding about that last one.
I did find some almonds though.
But no sunglasses. Again. RAT. BALLS.
So I sighed. Clicked my fingers on the steering wheel. Growled. Debated driving back home for them. Realized this would interrupt my momentum.
Got out of the car and started running.
Jaysusmaryandjoseph, I felt completely exposed.
Running without sunglasses is acceptable if it’s cloudy and rainy out, because that means fewer people will be around.
But on a bright, blinding, beautiful day like today, there were plenty of other runners, walkers, dog-and-children wranglers, and mail-getters, and this was not ideal because I had it in mind to include some painful tempo work in my run.
SO I NEEDED MY SUNGLASSES. I don’t like making others party to my pain and suffering, which is exactly what happens when my sunglasses decide to take a vacation from running. I like my sunglasses on. I like to look in control, even if it’s a total façade and inside I’m battling and second-guessing my ability to hold a pace.
Without the sunglasses, others can see every inch of the pain.
Without the sunglasses, my eyebrows are arched up in that pitiful “Please, God, no!” scrunch.
Without the sunglasses, my eyes radiate desperate and maniacal anguish.
Without the sunglasses, it’s a feedback loop of suck. Others know I’m suffering, so I suffer more.
So when I looped back to my car to change shoes, it was with unadulterated glee that I discovered my sunglasses tucked into a sneaker.
I put them on and, even though they are cheapo scratched-up pieces of junk, immediately morphed into a combination of the Terminator and Boss Godfrey from Cool Hand Luke.
Do you see pathetic scrunchy eyebrows in the above photographs? Do you see any crazy-eyes beaming you a “make it stop!” message? Do these guys look like they’re messing around, just out for a jog?
Heck no! They mean business. And so did I.
Sunglasses in place, I terminated my tempo miles like the cool, calm and collected mileage mercenary I was. Then I cooled down, stretched, changed, got into my car, and said hasta la vista to my running venue.
Second day in a row of decent running. Yesterday was 12 miles at 8:05 pace, today was a total of 12 including seven tempo miles I like to imagine may have averaged in the 7:10’s-20’s, though on the other hand, who knows.
Is there anything you CAN’T run without? Watch? Garmin? Hat? Deadly firearms?