See Sha Run
I think I have died. At least, I wish I had because I got the insane idea to start running again.
In-sane.
My body is hurting everywhere. I hurt in places that I didn’t even know that I could hurt.
Now mind you I used to run an eight-minute mile. Now I am lucky to finish an eighth of a mile before next Tuesday. I am so out of shape it is pathetic.
Pa-the-tic.
Here’s what started all this mess: Peer pressure, pure and simple.
The only problem with it is that I have never met the person who laid in on me about needing to get active.
For a while now, I have been picturing myself running. But the task of taking from my mind and putting it into a live situation has been hard to manage. My boss started working out. He is looking really good. His best friend who lives way far away started training for a triathlon. Yeah, he woke up one day and said to himself, “I want to do the Ironman competition.” And then he set to it.
Can you imagine having that kind of will power? I am lucky if I can make myself wait until 9 AM before eating a chocolate cookie for a mid morning snack!
Anyway, one day Anthony called to talk to my boss, and I commended him on his determination to do a triathlon. I stupidly commented that I used to run, but now the only exercise I get is running around in circles or pushing my luck.
Boy, was that a mistake. Unbeknownst to me, he used to be a body builder. He stressed the importance of taking care of my body, of participating in a regular routine to keep yourself healthy physically and mentally, and (the clincher) if I wanted to lose the tummy I’ve been complaining about, I have to so some sort of cardiovascular activity to make it disappear.
Okay, he got me on that one. So I started running.
I’ve only started this past week, and if you were to watch I am sure there were many old ladies with walkers who would pass me up, but the point is that I’ve started.
Maybe I’ll eventually make the eight minute mile mark again. Until then, hand me those headphones. I’ve got a sidewalk calling me.
In-sane.
My body is hurting everywhere. I hurt in places that I didn’t even know that I could hurt.
Now mind you I used to run an eight-minute mile. Now I am lucky to finish an eighth of a mile before next Tuesday. I am so out of shape it is pathetic.
Pa-the-tic.
Here’s what started all this mess: Peer pressure, pure and simple.
The only problem with it is that I have never met the person who laid in on me about needing to get active.
For a while now, I have been picturing myself running. But the task of taking from my mind and putting it into a live situation has been hard to manage. My boss started working out. He is looking really good. His best friend who lives way far away started training for a triathlon. Yeah, he woke up one day and said to himself, “I want to do the Ironman competition.” And then he set to it.
Can you imagine having that kind of will power? I am lucky if I can make myself wait until 9 AM before eating a chocolate cookie for a mid morning snack!
Anyway, one day Anthony called to talk to my boss, and I commended him on his determination to do a triathlon. I stupidly commented that I used to run, but now the only exercise I get is running around in circles or pushing my luck.
Boy, was that a mistake. Unbeknownst to me, he used to be a body builder. He stressed the importance of taking care of my body, of participating in a regular routine to keep yourself healthy physically and mentally, and (the clincher) if I wanted to lose the tummy I’ve been complaining about, I have to so some sort of cardiovascular activity to make it disappear.
Okay, he got me on that one. So I started running.
I’ve only started this past week, and if you were to watch I am sure there were many old ladies with walkers who would pass me up, but the point is that I’ve started.
Maybe I’ll eventually make the eight minute mile mark again. Until then, hand me those headphones. I’ve got a sidewalk calling me.
Labels: Family
posted by Shalee at 12:29 PM
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