If I can successfully complete this 21-day diet cleanse (and Sunday's day 21, so I'm pretty confident), then I feel like I can do just about anything.
That was my main motivator when I bopped into the living room last night and declared to Tim: "I'm going to become a runner."
I wasn't quite sure where to go after that. I felt as though I should put on some running shoes and take off down the road like Forrest Gump.
Tim and a few fitness-fan friends have offered the basic advice -- start easy to avoid shin splints or other similarly painful setbacks, make sure I wear good shoes, stay hydrated, don't forget to properly warm up, and train with a specific goal in mind.
So this morning, I got up at 5 a.m., grabbed my iPod, stretched my quads and hams and etc., and ran. Technically, it was more a slow jog, but jogging sounds incredibly lame, so I insist it was running. And I did it for a whole mile. I don't know that I'd ever run an entire mile all in one outing in my entire 36 years.
Here we are, 11 hours later, I'm not staggering or flinching or crying out in unbearable pain. Maybe I'm delirious. Delusional? Or manic? That's possible, but, Nah. I think this is what healthy feels like. I'd like to hope this feeling will continue.
I have about a month and a half to train for my specific goal: the Cedar Rapids 5k Fun Run on Labor Day. It was supposed to be held during the Freedom Festival, which would have been impossible given the fact that the streets on which athletes were to run would have been under several feet of flood water.
Are you not sick enough of the flooding references? I know I am. But I suppose I should be thankful that the run was postponed, to better suit my latest bit of fitness madness.
That was my main motivator when I bopped into the living room last night and declared to Tim: "I'm going to become a runner."
I wasn't quite sure where to go after that. I felt as though I should put on some running shoes and take off down the road like Forrest Gump.
That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since I run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama. And that's what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going. When I got to another ocean, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well just turn back, keep right on going. -- FG
Tim and a few fitness-fan friends have offered the basic advice -- start easy to avoid shin splints or other similarly painful setbacks, make sure I wear good shoes, stay hydrated, don't forget to properly warm up, and train with a specific goal in mind.
So this morning, I got up at 5 a.m., grabbed my iPod, stretched my quads and hams and etc., and ran. Technically, it was more a slow jog, but jogging sounds incredibly lame, so I insist it was running. And I did it for a whole mile. I don't know that I'd ever run an entire mile all in one outing in my entire 36 years.
Here we are, 11 hours later, I'm not staggering or flinching or crying out in unbearable pain. Maybe I'm delirious. Delusional? Or manic? That's possible, but, Nah. I think this is what healthy feels like. I'd like to hope this feeling will continue.
I have about a month and a half to train for my specific goal: the Cedar Rapids 5k Fun Run on Labor Day. It was supposed to be held during the Freedom Festival, which would have been impossible given the fact that the streets on which athletes were to run would have been under several feet of flood water.
Are you not sick enough of the flooding references? I know I am. But I suppose I should be thankful that the run was postponed, to better suit my latest bit of fitness madness.
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