On the spectrum of spontaneity, I fall somewhere in the region of "completely and totally predictable." The only impulsive thing I do is shop. Which isn't really spontaneous because you can predict that I will make an impulse purchase just about every week or so. So am I impulse shopping, or simply executing a pattern? But, I digress.
I crave order, love routine, and enjoy knowing exactly what is going on everywhere at all times. This makes me a PRETTY FLEXIBLE gal to hang out with sometimes. So you can imagine my own shock (and horror!) when I found myself sitting at work last week, verbally commiting to run a 5K.
As in, a race. Well, technically, it's a 5K/10K Run/Walk Fundraiser. For those of you that know me personally, you can appreciate and understand how this decision is almost completely contrary to my everyday lifestyle. I hate running, and as a dancer, I've avoided it for years. I find it boring, difficult, and don't even want to think about what it does to your joints. But here I am, less physically fit (not to mention fatter) than ever, and drastic measures are in order.
Earlier this evening, I strapped on my new running shoes (Thanks to Jeff for his expert running shoe assistance) and hit the road. Since the race is only 3 weeks away, my only training goals are (a) not to die somewhere along the route, and (b) finish in less than 40 minutes. I know that may sound less than stellar, timewise, but it's realistic given how lazy I have been over the past 5 years.
Day One Training: 1.8 miles run/walk, city streets, varied inclines
Elapsed Time: 21 minutes
Small Victory: Passing Target and NOT GOING IN TO BUY SOMETHING. Gah. That may have been the toughest part. I can take some minor huffing and puffing, but I cannot resist cute, cheap shoes.
Small Surprise: My quads. Formerly the strongest part of my body (Dancers reading this will know what I mean when I say that I'm a jumper, not a turner), these bad boys really gave up on me in the form of feeling detached from my legs, and also massive buildups of lactic acid. Feel the burn, baby.
I'm prepared for being purple in the face (I'm one of those, sadly), looking slow, and being lapped by ladies with jogging strollers. I laugh in the face of embarassment! I'll be updating this blog with my progress every week or so, mostly so that you all hold me accountable for actually running the damn race.
Wish me luck!
I crave order, love routine, and enjoy knowing exactly what is going on everywhere at all times. This makes me a PRETTY FLEXIBLE gal to hang out with sometimes. So you can imagine my own shock (and horror!) when I found myself sitting at work last week, verbally commiting to run a 5K.
As in, a race. Well, technically, it's a 5K/10K Run/Walk Fundraiser. For those of you that know me personally, you can appreciate and understand how this decision is almost completely contrary to my everyday lifestyle. I hate running, and as a dancer, I've avoided it for years. I find it boring, difficult, and don't even want to think about what it does to your joints. But here I am, less physically fit (not to mention fatter) than ever, and drastic measures are in order.
Earlier this evening, I strapped on my new running shoes (Thanks to Jeff for his expert running shoe assistance) and hit the road. Since the race is only 3 weeks away, my only training goals are (a) not to die somewhere along the route, and (b) finish in less than 40 minutes. I know that may sound less than stellar, timewise, but it's realistic given how lazy I have been over the past 5 years.
Day One Training: 1.8 miles run/walk, city streets, varied inclines
Elapsed Time: 21 minutes
Small Victory: Passing Target and NOT GOING IN TO BUY SOMETHING. Gah. That may have been the toughest part. I can take some minor huffing and puffing, but I cannot resist cute, cheap shoes.
Small Surprise: My quads. Formerly the strongest part of my body (Dancers reading this will know what I mean when I say that I'm a jumper, not a turner), these bad boys really gave up on me in the form of feeling detached from my legs, and also massive buildups of lactic acid. Feel the burn, baby.
I'm prepared for being purple in the face (I'm one of those, sadly), looking slow, and being lapped by ladies with jogging strollers. I laugh in the face of embarassment! I'll be updating this blog with my progress every week or so, mostly so that you all hold me accountable for actually running the damn race.
Wish me luck!
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