It Still Hurts to Breathe
you guys, i’m having some blog issues – i know, #firstworldproblem. but ABN did some tweaking over the long weekend and i thought we were up and running but we’re just…not. so, you’ll have to wait a bit longer for the remaining chanukah posts. i promise it will be worth the wait – we’re talking brisket and babies playing with mama-made beanbags. but for now…let’s talk about “running”
it’s been a month since i decided to get my tush off the couch. i can’t say exactly what the original motivation was (except that all my cool friends run and i still strive to be cool). i mean, clearly, exercise was needed but for a girl who never ran a mile, even in high school (i had a great pout that got me out of a lot) it seems like a sorta weird choice.
remember that episode of FRIENDS, when phoebe and rachel go for a run in central park? i’m just saying…
i don’t love it.
but i also don’t hate it – at least not every minute of it.
i wouldn’t say i look forward to my next “run” (they happen 3 times a week, i’m following a plan) but as soon as the music starts (i’m discovering my love for hip hop at 30 1/2) – i don’t know…something happens. my ponytail starts swinging for sure.
today, for the last 45 seconds of my “run” which, according to my australian lady, who talks to me through my iphone, included more than 16 minutes of running (don’t worry, not all at once), i did my first fartlek*.
i think it’s time to register for that 5k. anyone want to join me?
*okay so i didn’t do a fartlek. i don’t know what a fartlek is. but i did sprint at the end of my “run” and by sprint i mean i just wanted it to be over as soon as possible