Running With the Wools
By: Jonica Bradley
Tags: Running, The Bad Influence, Humor, Self, This Happened To Me

Blog

Running With the Wools

The Wools: Photo by Author

Back in 2013, I quit smoking. A year later I began running. Or shuffle hopping, as I like to call it.

I loved running. I wasn’t fast and would not place well in any race. I tried a 1/2 marathon in Chicago in 2015 with the goal of finishing. I was so overwhelmed by the crowds of people (something like 20k people were in the park that day) that I panicked and dissolved into a puddle of fear and tears. That was a DNF. The one other “races” I ran were a 5k color fun run in support of breast cancer in Amarillo (again, too many people-but I powered through) and a 5k in my teeny tiny town of pop 2000.

After the local 5k: photo by Author’s husband, used with permission

Instead of racing, I usually ran a circle out past the livestock barn the high school uses for 4H, down some dirt and gravel roads, over caliche, up past the house locals call “The Castle,” down toward Highway 70, and back through town, then to home. My route was between seven and ten miles.

I ran almost daily for nearly two years before work and life (and in the summer of 2016 cigarettes) got in the way.

In 2018, after being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, I started lifting free weights. I really liked it, but somehow turned into a 12-year-old boy wanting to go heavier faster. I injured my rotator cuff.

Then, in 2019, I started having health issues. First skin cancer (surgically removed — I’m fine) and then weird and unexplained stomach issues and full-body aches. I could barely eat a quarter of a serving. What I did eat came back up. The chronic pain made getting up and fixing something to eat near impossible. I had zero appetite.

I lost 25 pounds in just a few months. Everybody kept telling me how great I looked. I hated hearing that. I know it was a compliment but it didn’t feel like one. All the pain and misery every single day. I just felt horrible.

Finally, after over a year and endless testing and probing, those issues were resolved. It was a simple fix: stop taking medication that was prescribed prophylactically as part of the medical standard of care for women with T2D.

I stopped puking every day. I stopped hurting all over. My appetite finally made an appearance. And then, I put the weight back on. I’ve gained ten pounds since August.

Yikes!

So, once again I’m embarking upon a journey of fitness. I’ve been counting my steps and logging my food. Logging my water intake and monitoring my sleep. All thanks to my shiny new FitBit Inspire 2 (no affiliate links- just an early Christmas gift). I’m prompted to get up and move, take a walk, or drink some water. I’m prompted to meditate which, as it turns out, is not at all relaxing. I mean, the meditating is fine. The prompting is a bit annoying. I’ve been getting in some steps and some cardio. I haven’t actually exercised. Not like aerobics or sit ups or whatever. Instead, I’ve been digging holes in the dried-up-home-made-pond in the orchard. Not real exercise.

Until today.

Today I ran (or shuffle hopped).

I was planning on walking through the sheep pasture up to the gate at the back of our property. We have a long, narrow 30 acres, so this is actually a good distance for being in the back yard. It is uphill, too, which makes it even better for fitness training.

Something came over me and I ran (shuffle hopped) instead.

The sheep and llama decided to investigate. I think they thought I was crazy. Marilyn, the llama, is the guardian of the flock. She couldn’t figure out what I was doing. I wasn’t feeding them. I wasn’t petting them. I wasn’t threatening them. I was running away from them.

Pretty soon I heard thundering hoofbeats behind me. Marilyn, followed by the entire flock of sheep, was chasing me and only veered off when she got an arm’s length away. She’d wait until I got a bit ahead of her and chased after me again, with all the food little sheep following where they were led.

Llamas can actually run. not just shuffle hop. They move in a loping gallop. Fast!. A couple of times I worried she would crash into me. She never did, of course.

We ran in this manner up to the gate at the back and down to the stock tank where the sheep pasture ends. I continued running up to the front of the house while Marilyn watched me with a glint in her eye.

Some people spend a bunch of money to fly to Spain and go running with the bulls.

Me? I stay home and go running with the wools.