Let me start by saying that I’m not a runner. It’s not that I don’t want to be, it’s that every time I try to run, my legs and lungs tell me to piss off. I had to chase after my dog once, and I only made it down my driveway before collapsing with shin splints and lung spasms. My driveway is less than forty feet long. I lay there in the fetal position while my dog came back to mock me. Even he couldn’t believe how completely out of shape I was. He’s so judgemental.
So exercising to be fit and healthy became my new motivation. I’ve found that once you get into a habit of working out, it becomes almost like an addiction. Some people do crack, I do Tae Bo. I don’t look very graceful doing it, but in my head I’m a total bad ass. If I don’t get my daily exercise, my Chi gets all out of whack, I get very edgy, and everyone around me turns into an asshole. (Yes, it’s all of them, not me.) Because of my new-found fitness, I thought I’d give running a try.
I made it about a mile and a half, MOSTLY running. I’ve got a whole new respect for runners. Hats off to you crazy freaks of nature. You all look so graceful, free and happy. Your obvious passion for running is inspiring. I was flopping around like a kindergartener running from a boy with cooties. I started out at a nice pace, my feet hitting the pavement in time with my husbands. Toward the end of our route I was way ahead of him. While he kept a nice even pace, I had sped up to get this torturous run over with. I ran as though bill collectors were chasing me. At the end of my run, I had sweat dripping down into cracks of my body that I’m usually not aware of. It was not sexy. I smelled foul and felt like my heart was pounding in my head. Where real runners finish their route and feel a sense of accomplishment, I just felt the need to throw up and then eat a donut.
As soon as I can feel my legs again I’ll give it another go. Seriously, kudos to all the runners out there. You guys make it look so easy.