Day 1--January 5th "I have lost my mind"

Somehow, a few weeks ago, my brain shorted out and I decided I'd like to run a 5K. Some of my friends were talking about running; some for health, some for fundraising, some in support of various groups or diseases. Their insanity must have splashed on me.

I used to run--a lot--but NEVER without a ball in play somewhere near me. However, since I turned about about 27, I would only run if someone was chasing me. (And even then I'd judge whether or not I could defend myself before choosing that last resort.)

Why I've decided to start running at age 38 is beyond me. I must have lost my mind--I think it's too many monthly wellness newsletters or glasses of water. I think Evelyn should check into it.

Whatever the reason, insanity or something else, today was my first day of training. At exactly 3:00 pm, I grabbed my backpack and headed over to the house of horrors, otherwise known as the White House, to torture myself for 30 long minutes on the treadmill.

Do you know how long 30 minutes is when you hate every second of what your doing? Let me assure you, it's a LONG time! I now know there are 376 slats in the blinds and how many window are on the building across the street. I've also figured out that Elijah must have been in good shape if he ran before Ahab back to the palace after he slaughtered all the false prophets. I never considered how strong one must be to take out 850 people, but as I pounded along on the treadmill, I figured he had to have some kind of stamina to stand that run! I'm convinced that the Bible translators got it wrong--instead of Jesus saying "take up your cross and follow me", I think He really said, "get on your treadmill and chase after me." Both are torture, only on the treadmill, you never get anywhere.

{{Sigh}}

Well, I just keep thinking that if I can keep this up, there has to be some good that comes from it. Maybe I'll get into the jeans I wore in my early 20's. High school jeans are too much to comprehend. Or, maybe I'll be able to shop for clothes in the misses section instead of the Mister's. Baby steps...

Whatever benefits might come, they better hurry before my mind returns.

Next training session--Thursday. Ugh, don't remind me....