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.
Who are you and what have you done with my sister?
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