ADVENTURES AND PROMS AND BEING AN ADULT

This weekend was a lot of things for me. There is a situation at work that is stressing me out and last week I was on edge every day it seemed. So, it's not been very fun to be me recently, is what it comes down to.

But Saturday night was prom. Our theme was "Under The Sea" and someone unnamed had volunteered me to chaperon. At first I was a little hesitant, but since I was actually staying in town this weekend I decided to just do it. (Introvert problems, you know? I'm sorry, you want to hang? I can't. I have to sit at home by myself and watch Netflix...)

I met up at an Italian restaurant with a bunch of the other chaperons for our pre-prom dinner. This place provides crayons and covers their tables with butcher paper. There is a six year old child inside of me that just can't resist this combination. I drew sea creatures and a small drawing contest erupted between me and the two teachers I was next to. There was a flying manatee at one point. Teachers know how to party.

Then we headed out to the golf course event center that's right on the lake. It was gorgeous. I wished a million times that my high school proms could have been held there instead of at the resort. Oh well. And the decorations the students have been working on for the last three weeks were everywhere. The place just looked amazing.

Students started flooding in, the lights got dim. The sun set behind the mountains (the view! you guys!) and the music started thumping. The base was loud. The music was a good mix of things before my time, during my time and after my time. A lot of what blared through the speakers was music from my high school years, which felt a little odd, admittedly. Apple Bottom Jeans, anyone?

We did the Cupid Shuffle and Cotton-Eyed Joe. The students all got ridiculously excited about the Wobble...which I am wholly unfamiliar with. The girls were really into it, so. It was fun to watch.

I danced a lot more than I had anticipated and I sang along with tons of the songs. By the time I got home that night my voice was scratchy and my ears were ringing. It's been a long time since I've had that much fun at an event similar to this one. My high school prom experiences weren't bad, but they were followed around by that typical teenage girl angst of wanting to dance with boys. I never attended a formal dance with a boyfriend (which I've heard is a good thing. there are some horror stories out there) and I always had fun. There was also always some sort of tension between me and my date because one of us always cared more and it usually wasn't me. Except when I went to prom with Jeff because despite the joke about us being "secret lovers" a la the commercial that was so popular back then, we truly were just friends and that was a great night.

But I digress.

I've decided that I like chaperoning prom a lot more than I liked attending it when I was a student. And perhaps next year us chaperons will show up in our own poofy prom dresses. Like I said, teachers know how to party.

Sunday morning woke me up at 7 with a healthy dose of prom hangover. I spent the day on the couch binge watching Futurama and sleeping.

And then in the evening I went on one of the longest runs of my life. I hadn't planned it that way, but then, adventure.

You guys, running is such a metaphor for life. Can I just tell you? Because it is.

There is a route that I usually take, and I just stick to that route. I know it. I'm comfortable running it. It's not too crazy and it's not too far. I'm usually out there for fifteen or twenty minutes and I come back feeling good. But just like in life, sometimes routine gets boring.

So instead of turning and crossing the road at my usual spot, I decided to go straight. I knew what was up ahead, but I hadn't ever ran there before, you know? I jogged up the road, passed by my old middle school. Turned into a big neighborhood and ran down to the park that I've played at off and on since it was built. The whole thing took me about an hour before I found myself back at my apartment complex.

My life has been linear. It has been routine, even though the routine has changed a couple times. But I always just take what's ahead of me. I brace for it, whatever it is, instead of maybe choosing something different. I went through school. Graduated. Went to college. Graduated. Got a job working in my field.

It's always been a progression. There hasn't been really any sideways motions, just always forward. This thing I'm dealing with at work could end up aiding in carrying through that forward momentum, or it could throw me sideways. Which, here is why running is my life metaphor.

Yesterday I decided to take a turn in a direction I hadn't been in before. There was no magic button to reset and put me back at my door step if I didn't like where I was or I got too tired to go on. There was no cell phone in my pocket to call for a ride home if my feet suddenly gave out. It was just me and the asphalt paved pathway my running shoes were pounding on.

There's a fork in my road. My job could go one way or the other and I'm not sure what's going to happen and it's a little scary. What happens if I have to go sideways? My plans have never really had the potential to change this drastically. I've always been the one with the power, and here it feels...different.

Whatever happens to me, I'm going to be alright. I know that. I've just started realizing what adulthood is all about. It's not about just taking the next step and following a certain plan. Plans change. Adulthood is about how you respond to the changes. How you roll with the punches and go with the flow. You can sit and fight the current or let it take you away. And there isn't really a right answer, which can be both exciting and terrifyingly horrible.

But I will end with this, I suppose. I still think being an adult is the stupidest thing I've ever done. And I love mostly every single stupid second of it.

RUNNING AT NIGHT

I remembered that I used to hate running. It was probably my least favorite form of exercise. My legs would ache, I was constantly out of breath, and after just a couple of minutes I was ready to throw in the towel and do something else.

Secretly I wished I was good at it, I wished I enjoyed my feet pounding the pavement and that I could proudly say "I went for a run this morning" and be one of those people. However, outwardly I cursed running. I wasn't good at it and it hurt. Besides, as a teenager I was more interested in boys and showing off my gymnastics skills than I was about being good at running or being in good shape.

I guess you could say it really started when Nathan broke up with me back in January. I mean, prior to that I would hit the gym and run on the elliptical for half an hour but I wouldn't really break a sweat. I was doing just enough to keep from gaining weight, but I wasn't exactly getting anything else out of my workouts. And then suddenly I found myself with a terrible need to distract my brain from reality. So naturally, working out was the best option.

I would watch What Not To Wear and do squats, sit ups, leg raises, lemon squeezers, everybody's favorite burpees, you name it. And then I transitioned from that into running around the neighborhood once the weather warmed up. My tennis shoes hit the pavement and my calves started to ache. My thighs would burn and I would be out of breath before I even got halfway around the block. But I wasn't going to give up. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, determined to make my body cooperate with me.

I was going to make myself like running if it killed me.

The first time I ran a mile I could barely contain myself. I mean, I ran an entire mile, folks. I RAN THE WHOLE WAY! Exclamation points and things! Neon flashing stars! And I've been addicted ever since.

And now Nathan makes me run with him when we're together. He's a lot faster than I am and sometimes I feel like all I do is slow him down, but he swears he doesn't mind. So Saturday night rolls around and it's dark and windy but we lace up our running shoes anyway. He gives me a jacket to put on over my t-shirt because, seriously, it is cold. We're just that hardcore, I mean, what can I say?

He puts a leash on Lance and we're out the door and down the sidewalk. My legs feel good. My breathing is steady. The jacket is nice. The night air is crispy and the wind is biting. I'm thankful for my hat over my ears.

I feel like I'm in the middle of a movie adventure scene, dodging tree branches that hang over the sidewalk in the dark. We are headed down a hill and I feel a little invincible, like I could do anything right now. Up ahead of me I watch Nathan and Lance. Lance keeps stopping to pee on bushes and Nathan tugs at his leash. I catch up, pass them, and then a few seconds later they return to the lead. It's not a bad system we have going, I can keep a slower pace and don't fall too far behind this way.

The sky is super clear and a deep black color with some of the brightest stars I've ever seen. It's beautiful out, despite the nipping wind. I rub my nose with the back of my hand and pull my hat back down over my ears. My ankle is starting to hurt. I can feel the dull ache in my left foot - the one that's injured the most from my chronic tumbling abuse in gymnastics and pole vault. I grit my teeth and keep going.

We're headed up a hill now. My breathing shortens and my quads are on fire. I will beat the hill, though. I can do this. I'm untouchable. And suddenly I love running. Even with pain shooting up my leg every time my left foot touches the ground, I can't stop. The rest of it feels too good. The burning in my legs, the shortness of breath, I love it. I pull my hat back down over my ears. I'm almost to the top of the hill.

Lance stops to mark his territory again and I pass Nathan. I come up over the hill and a gust of wind nearly takes my hat from my head. Again I'm thankful for the jacket. It's impossible to run and hold my hat over my ears at the same time in this wind, so I stop to walk for a bit and Nathan and the dog catch up to me.

Nathan remarks about how clear the sky is. We talk nonchalantly for a while, tugging at Lance's leash every so often because he has to stop and smell all the things. I slip my hand up inside Nathan's sleeve and his fingers wrap around mine tightly. His skin is cold, but so is mine. I'm thankful that we get to walk and talk together. I'm thankful that he runs with me. I'm also thankful that we brought Lance.

I'm glad we're almost back to the house. I'm starting to get cold and my runner's high is fading. But my mind is cleared and my body feels good. I'm rejuvenated. Running restores my soul. I smile to myself again and in the dark Nathan can't see. But I'm happy that I can finally say the words I've always wished I could. I may not be fast and I may not go far, but I at least I go.

My name is Natalie and I am a runner.