Yet here I am, acknowledging my second bout of tears on a treadmill. Perhaps I should avoid CMT while I'm running* from now on?
(Side note: My ballet teacher told me in grad school that the only time a woman should run is if she is being chased by a bear. I stand behind this statement. My lower half, however, appreciates a little cardio now and then. If you're wondering why I took dance in grad school, ask my co-ballerina Kristen. Then ignore the other stories she tells you about me in tights.)
I'd heard that "The House That Built Me" was Miranda Lambert's best song yet, but hadn't seen the video until I was halfway through a workout last week.
I was plugging along quite nicely when Miranda crooned:
"And I bet you didn't know: Under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard."
In an instant, that line had me misty-eyed. Then she followed up with this gem:
"Mama cut out pictures of houses for years from Better Homes and Garden magazine. Plans were drawn and concrete poured. Nail by nail and board by board, Daddy gave life to Mama's dream."
Thank heavens the man next to me was engrossed in his baseball game! Home renovations must be a soft spot for me, because there was more than a little chin quivering going on...
What could possibly explain such a public lapse of any emotional control? No, I'm not sleep-deprived, underfed, pregnant or on drugs. (Odd that those things might have similar symptoms.)
Have you seen this video? Would you indulge me with a, "Yes, I find those lines a touch sentimental, too?"
*read: attempting to run, moving my feet, making a valiant effort to burn a few calories