Insanity Update #1

Day One: I walked close to three miles with my daughter, complaining a good portion of the time. I didn't originally plan to do this, but halfway through our first of six laps Sabrina turned to me and said, "Okay, I really can't take your whining and complaining. You need to stop now." I found that to be extremely funny and ironic since this is the girl who is never happy unless she's complaining. I therefore proceeded to complain for another three laps gaining far too much enjoyment out Sabrina's heavy sighs.

Day Two: I would say I ran a total of .8 miles today, but I think it would be optimistic to call what I was doing running. It was more of a shuffle. Old ladies with walkers probably could have lapped me. However, I persevered and ended up walking/shuffling over three miles on the treadmill. Things were going relatively well until two extremely petite and disgustingly healthy women got on the treadmills on either side of me. Their walking speed was faster than my shuffling speed, and then they started running super fast and with a lot of intensity. I wanted to ask them where exactly they thought they were going, but their intensity scared me.

Day Three: I'm finding it very hard to move and my foot hurts. Yay exercise!

In Which I Totally Lose My Mind

Apparently I'm running a 5k in November. How in the world did this happen? Anybody who knows me, even those who are barely acquainted with me, knows I abhor exercise. I am perfectly content to sit on the couch and eat my Hostess donuts while my disgustingly healthy husband runs marathons or spends a week pretending to be Lance Armstrong and riding his bike for 500 miles around Oregon. My experience with exercise has generally been attending his races and cheering for him. I don't mind as long as someone promises me a good meal. I have also been known to compare running to sticking a fork in my eye, only I'd opt for the fork over running because it wouldn't hurt any less, but it would be over much more quickly.

And yet a race is looming in my future. I would ask what the heck was I thinking, but it is obvious my brain has been surgically removed and there was no thought process involved. I have two months to go from sedentary sloth to runner. Fasten your seatbelts and hang on to your hats, people. This is going to get ugly.