Looking Good

          One day after I'd gone running, my husband called and asked me if I was okay.
          "Yeah, I'm fine," I told him.
          "Well, Ed came into the store and said he saw you walking past City Hall.  He said that you looked uncomfortable."
          "I was running when I passed City Hall," I corrected him.  "I didn't start walking until I turned the corner." If I was going to beat up my knees three days a week I wanted credit for it.
          "Well, he said he saw you walking.  Maybe I got it wrong.  At any rate, he said you looked like you were in pain."
          "I'm fine," I said again.
          I like it when people see me jogging around town.  It's nice to get a little recognition. I'm always hoping they didn't see me wiping my nose on my sleeve, stumbling, or worst of all falling.  I don't like it when people see me walking.
          A couple of days later I saw Ed.  "Hi, Nancy," he greeted me warmly.  Ed is a very nice man.  He's the type of person who remembers your name after the first time you meet, and he never misses a moment to say hello and ask you how you're doing.
          "Oh hi Ed," I said.  "How are you?"
          "I'm fine," he said.  "I saw you walking past City Hall the other day."  I bit my lip and let the 'walking' comment go by.  "You looked uncomfortable."
          "Well, I've been trying to jog three days a week.  I'm going to run a 5K with my niece later this spring."
          "Oh, I see," he said.  "You seemed really uncomfortable."  He looked concerned.
          "Well, you know, I'm not so young any more." I gave a little laugh.  "My knees are bothering me a little bit.  Maybe I'll switch to walking after the 5K."
          Ed nodded.  "You looked like you were in pain."
          I know from seeing my reflection as I run past store windows that I'm not the most graceful jogger.  I look like I'm doing a sort of stumbling, fast walk.  I've tried to figure out what it is about my mechanics that makes me look awkward, thinking that it might help me jog more efficiently.  But nothing I've done seems to change how I look so I try not to think about it as I slowly make my way up and down the streets of our city.
          "Well, I have good days and mediocre days.  Some days are harder than others.  But you know..." I shrugged.  I looked at him.  He didn't exactly look like a runner, if you know what I mean.  What was his point?
          "Well, you looked really uncomfortable," he said again.
          I could feel frustration wrap itself around my ribcage.  "Okay, well it was nice seeing you," I said as warmly as I could.
          "You too.  Take care," he said kindly.