Some Days I Am Brilliant. Other Days, Yeah…Not So Much
I am up to three and a half miles on the treadmill. I run at a steady 5 mph pace for thirty-five minutes and then walk for another five minutes to cool down. I no longer want to kill myself when I wake up the morning after a run and my shins no longer throb with pain.
I think I’m getting the hang of this running thing, is what I’m saying.
Granted, my ass still looms large over my ankles and that extra roll on my stomach is still hitching a ride but, I console myself with the thought that I am trying.
Also, while I have yet to experience the elusive “runner’s high” that all the cool kids keep talking about; I do experience a brief moment of perfect clarity right around mile marker 2. For instance, yesterday, while running and listening to my iPod, I realized that the correct lyrics to The Pussycat Dolls When I Grow Up include the words “I want to have groupies”. Not, “I want to have boobies”.
Also, how embarrassed am I that I have been singing “I want to have boobies” this whole time?
In other embarrassing news, last night I got dressed up and prepared to head out to a girlfriend’s house to pick her up for book club. I needed some clarification on the directions to her house so, I called her which is when she gently informed me that book club is next month.
I am genius; do you hear me, MENSA?