Or, why I'm so surprised with all I learned about myself today. My sister and I had a little 'game' we'd play every now and again. Opposite Day was likely born of necessity and probably was my idea. I probably told my sister she was stupid or told her I hated her or something equally nasty. And, when she threatened to tell Mom, I convinced her not to by telling her it was Opposite Day. So, I really meant she was smarter than I was or that I loved her a bunch. After awhile, we both knew we were full of it, but we used it on Mom to convince her we were kidding so we could keep being mean to each other, but not get in trouble for it. [Incidentally, my nephew is now playing this game, but my Mom is on to him. Poor kid.]
Okay. So, my first thing. Until this week, I hated running. Hated it in a BIG way. I felt weird if I had to run. I didn't feel cute. I felt uncoordinated and gawky. I had a lot of negative self talk associated with running and I refused to even think it might be a good idea. I only ran once while exercising in the past year or so and that was because I tripped and it was a better save to run than to stumble forward and continue walking. Vain. But, whatev.
But, this week, I have gone running twice. Today, I jogged (I'm not sprinting or whatever...I'm a slowpoke, but who cares?!) a half-mile. That's INSANE. I also am starting to train for a 5k based on a "from couch potato to 5k" training regimen I found. Pretty sweet.
Truthfully, if I weren't deprived of my husband's affection, as it were, I'd likely not need this. However, I find running attractive for a couple reasons. 1) I get where I'm going faster and I don't have a lot of time to be dinking around; 2) The rush that comes from exercising happens sooner with running; 3) I'm competitive and I like the idea of seeing if I can do it; and 4) this promises to boost my metabolism and I may actually lose weight soon enough that I don't give up in disgust.
My second thing I learned today? I couldn't figure out why my toes kept bunching up in my tennis shoes. My friend, Kim,
who started running not long ago (and has dropped some pounds and is smokin' hot) told me to go to this local running store and let them fit me with shoes.
I have worn size 8 1/2 since I became an adult.
Today? I walked out of the store with size 9 shoes in the bag. Perhaps this is why I find my heels so offensive when I have to don them as well?
Not sure. I could surmise that the shoe manufacturers have shrunk the sizes just to make us have to chuck all the shoes we own and buy new, but that seems a wee bit unlikely. I have a sweet new pair of kicks, regardless, and they meet M2's qualifications for being really fast.
My last thing? I am one of the 80-some odd percent of women who wear the wrong sized bra. I haven't been sized for one of those in awhile either. I knew I needed some decent sports bras for running and the store owner asked me what size bra I wear. I told her and she sent me into the dressing room with some candidates. And, incidentally, M2 was along for the trip.
As I attempted to don the first potential sports bar, I became entangled and there was NO WAY that bra was coming anywhere NEAR covering what it was supposed to cover. M2's face turned beet red and she began cackling. Pointing and cackling. Not quite the accompaniment to this moment I needed, but it did prompt me to ask the owner to size me for a proper fit.
Yeah. I was a full size (both inches and cup) off. It's a wonder I haven't lost an eye walking around with the bra I normally wear. I will spare you a photo of the bra--I don't want APM or Paul to gouge out their eyes with pencils.
Before I left the store, I saw this super cute shirt and decided it would be a good incentive to keep my feet moving.
How could I look in the mirror and not want to get moving?
The best part is that it is very comfortable. It doesn't get all wadded up under my arms or ride up on my behind (these things are important when you could stand to lose a few pounds) as I run.
It also isn't a big, sloppy t-shirt that I would normally wear (and look even bigger in) when I exercise.
It is also made of a neat-o material that isn't heavy weight at all. It also isn't glossy and weird feeling like some running clothes are.
The owner liked my choice of shirts and said she had one herself. She told me it was great to wear anywhere and she's right. Although, when she wears it somewhere other than running, it is obvious she does, in fact, run. It may take me a bit to reach that, "Oh, she runs...her shirt isn't telling me to do something" stage.
Hubs is substantially impressed with my efforts so far. Likely, he remembers that I hated running. He was also impressed that I, apparently, have a bigger chest than we'd ever imagined. But, he's a guy like that and we ignore his inability to pay attention to serious talks when the topic of bras and what goes in them enters the conversation.
Now, because I'm running, it's very important we make sure that new knees are a part of whatever healthcare 'reform' these bozos in Washington try to shove down our throats. I'm not gonna blow out the ones I have only to find out I have to fly to Cuba or India to have them replaced and pay a fine or spend time in jail when I bound off the plane on two good wheels.
I'm making it a goal to be ready to run my first 5k this fall. You read it here first. You should also plan ahead because on that day, it is likely one of two things may happen: Hell may, in fact, freeze over and/or the world may come to a screeching halt. And, if either or both of those things happen, they will still not be nearly as unexpected or monumental as my arse running in a race, on purpose, with other people.