Who Doesn’t Want a Breakfast Date?
A couple weeks ago, I was on a 7:00 AM work call. I had just returned from a run and was sitting on the floor with the two dogs I was babysitting when one of my colleagues messaged me and our third friend—all of us video off, all of us online.
The first colleague sent a photo of her dog, clearly, actively participating (sleeping) in the call. The second colleague sent a photo of her cat, watching the computer screen. Thrilled to be able to participate, I sent a photo of the dog I was coaxing through kibble, “we’re doing breakfast negotiation.”
The second colleague replied that her old cat used to be that way. Her old cat had to have someone sit with him while he ate. And when she put it that way…
The two dogs I’d been watching couldn’t be more opposite. One inhales each meal as though she has been starved for weeks. The other sniffs, considers, stares at you, and then, if you’re lucky, delicately nibbles before, at worst, walking away disinterested.
But when my colleague mentioned the cat who wanted someone to sit with him, it shifted my entire perspective. Yes, she may just be a quieter, slower, softer girl than her rambunctious little sister, but also maybe she just wants a breakfast date. Maybe she just wants someone to sit with her and tell her she’s a good girl after each bite.
I was talking to a friend and fellow distance runner in New York City recently about run clubs and our (lack of) relationship to them. We bonded over the concept of wanting to be efficient with our running and how the idea of waiting for a group or having to meet at a certain time sometimes feels restrictive. And generally, this is my take. But sometimes, it’s worth impracticality.
Most Saturdays, I wake up, change, and dive into my solo long runs. Yesterday, I woke up, loitered, rode a bus, met up with my brother, and then proceeded to run a great workout. Rather than the run being one quick part of my morning or weekend, it became the event of the day and while certainly less “efficient” it was absolutely more fun.
Sometimes, I want to metaphorically inhale my food—moving quickly and eagerly through the meal and onto the next thing. But sometimes, I want that breakfast date. The slow, impractical, often inefficient meander through a task or activity. I like to believe there is space for both. I like to believe we can design our lives to create room for all.
This long weekend ahead, we invite you to do both. Find what you want to inhale. Find what you want to exhale. Create space for every tempo and lean into the possibility that awaits.
