how much I love to run?
Yes, I suck at it, and yes, I sometimes feel the aches and pains you'd expect a 56-year-old fat lady to feel.
But I do love to run.
Yesterday morning I did four miles in 50:52. That's 40 seconds per mile slower than my – ahem – race pace at the half-marathon.
I'm cracking myself up! I am slower than slow, and yet I call myself a runner.
The shoes I bought in Nashville are the best so far. It's hard to rotate with the other recently bought pair; that's how much difference there is. I feel like stocking up before they discontinue this particular style.
My quest to lose a few pounds before I start training for the next half hasn't been very successful. When I started losing weight and blogging about it, I searched other blogs for success. I found it in lots of places. I was inspired and motivated and rewarded with pounds dropped and fitness gained. I know I inspired and motivated others during that first year, but I'm surprised at how many of you are still here through all these months of staying-the-same. Thanks for hanging in there.
I'm still hanging in there, as well. There's no quitting! As always, the missing link is probably weight training, something I simply cannot or will not put into the regular rotation. You weightlifters – you and you, especially – are my heroes. But unless you come to my house and stand over me with a whip, I'm probably always going to find an excuse not to hoist the dumbbells.
Despite being pathetic, I'm in a good mood and am Getting Things Done.
I dreamed last night that I was offered a job creating advertising for a power company in Columbus, Ohio, where I used to live. I've been out of the job loop for so long now that I'm pretty sure no one would hire me, let alone a major utility. I have a couple little volunteer graphic design gigs on the horizon, and that's as much as I want right now. I wonder why my dreams want me to get a job?