I was excited to get in three days of trail running this weekend, but like Aunt Polly, Karen sent me out to paint the fence Saturday morning. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but after reading the paper and sufficient cups of coffee, I acquiesced.
I began with a trip to my local paint store, Boulder Valley Paint. I estimated I needed three gallons. At $50 per gallon, I didn’t want to buy more than I would need. But with the paint store closed the next two days for the holiday, it was critical I not under-estimate. Three gallons turned out to be perfect. I know my paint.
Tiffany chatted me up while she stirred the paints. I let on I would rather be doing something else, but that at least painting the fence would get me outside. I didn’t tell her I’d rather be running. Instead, I shared my other irritation with her, that I considered it my neighbor’s fence and I shouldn’t have to do this.
Tiffany might be 35 or 40, hard to say. She has straight, long hair with bangs that give off a schoolgirl look, and colorful ink on both shoulders and upper arms. She gave me a lecture on how it was important to not go into painting in a sour mood. That I needed to find the joy in my task. That I should consider drinking a beer first with some CBD. A house painter and home decorator herself, she advised me on how to find the zen in painting.
Being Boulder County, my paint store lecture on the zen of painting wasn’t all that surprising. What was bizarre though was we discovered we both learned to paint from our grandmothers, and in both circumstances, because we painted their rental property. We’d led mirrored childhoods. I left determined to have a positive attitude, which I rationalized by telling myself that painting would be a better workout than running.
Turned out to be an awesome four-hour workout. And it got me outside on what was perhaps the most perfect spring day of the season. I’ll run Sunday and Monday. Not the Bolder Boulder though. If you know me, then you know I’m a vain runner. I’ll only run the Bolder Boulder again when I’m fast enough to be in a top-seeded wave with a chance for a competitive finish among my age group. Hopefully next year.