Running with new people always stresses me out, mostly because I worry I’ll be too slow and everyone will think I’m a wimp. However, I’m getting sick of talking to myself and counting up to 100 over and over while I run (since I abandoned the iPod earlier this year. I’m not a purist; I just always worry I’m not going to hear a car coming and the pounding music gives me a headache. I used to listen to the dulcet tones of Ira Glass on This American Life, but then there was an episode about cryogenic freezing and a guy who had corpses in his shed and that made me want to vomit mid-run, so I don’t do that anymore either. Too much information). Anyway, I braved up and went this Saturday with some girls (women, I guess we are) in my new ward.
They were meeting at a park a few miles south of us, so I drove over in the foggy gray of 7:15 AM. En route, I passed a church marquee that said “Enjoy this day. You never get to live it again.” More on that in a minute.
The run was great; the pace was good and I got to know some new people (this is big for me, since I am now in nursery and don’t really get to converse with adults at church. We do get snacks, though, which is an okay trade-off). We ran along a two-lane road lined on either side with gorgeous horse farms. With the fog hanging over the rolling hills, it was possibly the most picturesque route I’ve ever run. We did eight miles and everyone was really nice.
Afterward, I went back to my car and headed towards home. Five minutes into my trip, I noticed the car slowing down. I assumed this was because I’d forgotten to move the seat forward and wasn’t able to push the pedal down all the way. I pressed harder, but the car still wouldn’t accelerate. Rolling toward the shoulder, I realized there wasn’t any resistance behind the pedal. Great.
Fortunately, I had my phone, so I called Jason and then my dad. Jason perused the internet for a solution (and a tow truck place) while my dad helped me practice self-rescue and try to figure out what was going on. Both of them hypothesized a broken cable. I was on the side of the road (near a dead possum for a while until I decided to try driving again to see if the problem had magically fixed itself and rolled a little ways past the carrion) until about 11:00 AM.
Finally, we got in touch with an auto repair shop that was open on Saturdays. An employee there called a tow truck, and Jason made plans to walk over to the shop to meet me. The tow truck came, we made it safely to the shop.
A very helpful automotive specialist looked at the car for approximately thirty seconds before letting me know it was fixed. Apparently the folks who replaced our distributor didn’t tighten down the cable linking the pedal to the engine, so it came lose and got kinked. The mechanic just charged us for towing (since it was a third-party tow-er) and sent me on my way.
I called Jason and told him not to come after all: the car was good to go. I made it home right around noon, still wearing the nasty gym clothes in which I’d gone running and extremely hungry. After I made myself presentable, Jason took me to lunch at The Local Taco. I had the Korean barbecue taco, which made me long for Sam Hawk. We also tried the Mexi-tots on Mary’s recommendation and she did not lead us astray–they were delicious. We are already trying to think of a reason to go back.
We walked home by way of the bookstore, and I took a long nap in the afternoon. We knocked out our grocery shopping at Kroger, then sort of watched the (miserable) UK game until the Relief Society broadcast came on. All the talks were excellent, but I particularly enjoyed the ones by Sister Allred and President Uchtdorf.
Before going to bed, I remembered, “Enjoy this day. You never get to live it again.” Even though the day had some less-than-enjoyable parts (being stranded on an unfamiliar road in an inert car comes to mind), it was a good day. I got to run with new friends, spend time with my good husband, and hear inspired counsel from church leaders. Not too bad after all.