$35 Jilsicle

Going once! Going twice! SOLD! One Jilsicle for thirty-five dollars!

You may be asking yourself "what is a Jilsicle" and yes, you are correct, it is exactly what you think it is. It's a frozen Jillian. BRRRRRR.

Now that I'm getting all settled into my new life, I decided it was time to get settled into my old routines. Yes, running (because I never want to run another half marathon without training. I want to puke just thinking about it- like I did that night six times because my body hated me for not preparing it for running 13.1 miles in the brutally crisp, unforgiving, Vegas winter air. INSERT BARFING NOISE HERE. And, hey, maybe again just for good measure. HURLLLLLL)-- Ok. You get the picture.

When I first moved to Georgia I joined a gym close to my Dad and Stepmom's house. Beautiful gym, super shiny- I wanted to live there its so HA-MAZING. But obviously, when I moved 50 minutes away it just wasn't working out (and obviously neither was I). So, I did what any person in my situation would do. I ended it. Which budget wise was probably for the best, because it was $70/month (but REALLY... so BEAUTIFUL. Sigh. Yes, I miss it.)

Anyways, so there I was... No beautiful, shiny gym. With the recent purchase of my HA-MAZING bed, I really had no money to sign up for a new gym. This is the moment I had the bright idea to start running outside again, because it really is SOOOOOO much better than running on a treadmill. SO.

The prospect of running outside was great, but then came the question of where to run. I can't just run out my front door like I used to do in Santa Barbara- people might actually kill me here if I did that. Or maybe just try to sell me illicit drugs, but either way, not the best situation. I started googling "best places to run in Atlanta" and "trails Atlanta." Let me tell you there is about one legit option in the city- Piedmont Park. I went, I ran, I was happy. But then I wanted to run again... and for me one of the biggest reasons I like running is because its like exploring. I can just start running and not know where I'm going and see new things and places. Not so easy to do in a metropolis- I guess I could start carrying a gun, but then I'd be running lopsided and people might start calling me Lopsided Jill and it just sounds weird. So, no gun and no Piedmont Park (at least not so soon- I'd have to give it at LEAST 3 days before I ran there again. OBVIOUSLY).

Last Sunday after work I decided to explore the option of running downtown. I knew it was going to be a bit chilly, but I'm used to getting hot about ten minutes into the run so I decided to forego a long sleeve shirt, jacket, hat or gloves. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Such a fucking BAD BAD BAD idea. Now you would think with my hands burning in pain from the cold after ten minutes that I would give up and go home. But what good is a ten minute run? Right? So pointless. I stuck it out for 35 minutes (which is about the shortest amount of time I can run and still feel like I did anything). My lungs hurt and if I knew what it felt like to be electrocuted, I would say that's what my hands felt like. But I've never been electrocuted, so I really can't say for sure. On the way to my car I passed a guy on the street. He told me I was insane and that there was a reason that gyms existed. BUT THE SKY IS SOOOOO BLUEEEEEEE. Sigh I love being outside, even if the cold does rape me sometimes.

Monday I didn't have to work until 2:30pm, so I figured I would try my luck again. This time I drove up to Stone Mountain. It took me thirty minutes to get there, but I told myself that nature was worth it. When I pulled to the gate I realized I was going to have to pay to park-- I guess its a State Park-- or something. $10!!! $10 to park my car for maybe an hour?! WTF!!! Right below the daily rate, they had an annual rate: $35 (which yes, I know is the months worth of gym membership that I shirked off due to my mattress purchase. But you just can't put a price on nature!). I decided to go with the annual rate. I told myself the odds were in my favor that I would come back and run here at least 3 more times in the next 12 months-- and if not well then I'm just a LAZ-ASS. PURCHASE! :D

My Stone Mountain running experience was going to be so much better than my experience running downtown. I came prepared! Yes! Running capris, long sleeve dri-fit running shirt, running jacket and dri-fit running gloves. It was SOOOOOO on. SO. I opened my door. It was cold, but I wasn't running yet, so that didn't really mean much. Ten minutes passed, I started running up Stone Mountain. Then I started hiking up Stone Mountain, because it was actually a STONE and I am a clumsy, clumsy girl and I like my face. The higher I hiked the colder it got and I started to get electro hands again. Fortunately, since I wasn't running I didn't really need my hands to help with forward motion, so I just started doing the Molly Shannon (you know the hands under the armpits, but just to keep them warm, not to smell them).

Again as I said before, I don't like abandoning a work out without getting the work out. I kept climbing. I passed several hikers covered head to toe. They were serious man. I'm not even joking- covered head to toe, hats, ski masks, hiking polls. You name it, they had it. I had my black and pink Nike Frees and hands under my armpits. I should have seen the mountain men and said "Here's your sign"! But I didn't. I should have seen the pools of very hard and very frozen water and said "Here's your sign"! But I didn't. Instead I hiked my very numb and self-loathing body HALLLL the way to the top of Stone Mountain. It was beautiful at the top. You could see for miles around, couldn't feel a damn thing, but you could see.

I took I moment to soak it all in. Then I turned around and ran the FUCK down, jumped in my car and sat on my hands for about ten solid minutes. Why is it that the warmest areas of your body are also the ones that smell the least wonderful? (I mean aside from mine, because my armpits and butt always smell like roses. Obviously. Oh, and girls don't poop either. Yup).

Lesson of this story. If you are a state park you can buy yourself a Jilsicle for $35.

YUP.

Over and out. Jildo