I hate reading runners' blogs when they're all, Oh I'm not a runner...I've never been a runner...except when I ran on my high school cross country team. UMMMM newsflash: you're a runner and have been since high school. I was on the swim team in high school, and even though I haven't been swimming regularly for 15 years or so, I can still swim circles around 90 percent of other folks.
When I say I've never been a runner, it means that when my swim team coaches used to try to make us run for cross-training, I would hide somewhere and then find a shortcut. I couldn't run more than two minutes without stopping to walk. Nor did I ever try. I have never made a secret about my hatred of running. I HATE IT.
Fast forward to my early 30s. Lately my body seems to have been...transforming? Actually, it's being a total asshole. Any muscle tone I've been able to maintain thus far is starting to get a little soft. And my jeans are sitting on a shelf, twiddling their thumbs (yes, my jeans have thumbs), waiting for my expanding ass to try and wiggle back into them.
Running is cheap and accessible. And trendy...heeeeyyyyy. So running it is.
And it's totally official now that I ran my very first race last month, the Crystal Run 5K Friday series. I placed in the top 500 women!
I'm the confused looking one. As usual.
The chick in blue is about to smoke me.
Anyway, I'm blogging about running to try and stay on track this time. I've been nursing a bad knee the last couple of weeks, but it's time to hit the pavement. My alarm is set for 5:30 a.m. You guys please give me a ton of shit if I start slacking. Be relentless. Call me names. Give me wedgies. Egg my car. (Please don't do that last one.)
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