As I have mentioned in an earlier post, I plan on "running" a 5k charity race in October. I was originally going to participate as a timed runner, but I'm thinking that's not going to happen. I may just get involved as an untimed "I'm doing this for the cause" runner.
Yesterday, I tried running. I went for my normal walk around lunch time. Edwin stopped by as I was completing my third lap, so I took a break and then I decided that I should start incorporating some actual speed into my workout. I had this theory that pushing the stroller and walking at a pretty strong speed was going to make it easy to move into running. That was the theory.
Good theory. I left Edwin with the girls. I'm nervous about running with Edwin around. He's a real runner. He moves his arms at a certain stride and leans his body in a certain way. He has "good form". I walked to the part of the track that he couldn't see before I started running. I didn't want him to discover that this is something that I do completely without grace or skill. I just move my legs as fast as the cellulite-ridden things can go and hope not to fall.
Well, that's what I did for a couple of minutes. Then I stopped feeling my legs. Did I mention that it was really, really hot yesterday? I know, who would have thought that the first day of September would be hot at lunch time? I had already walked my three miles, and I would like to think that it really hurt my ability to run. I don't want to think that I'm just that far from being ready for this thing... but I'm pretty sure that is the fact of the matter. So I ran about 2/3 of 1/2 of a mile. That would be 1/3 of a mile, but there was a break for walking in the middle.
I was looking for a challenge. I think I found it. My running was a pretty big failure, but I walked a lot yesterday, seven miles grand total. B. Whit (Brooke Whitlow) invited me to walk with her last night. My husband sees great value in me spending time with other women, so I got to hang out with her and walk for a while, completely child-free. I'll walk to New Mexico for a few minutes of conversation without a whiny little monkey screaming. B. Whit is a fun gal anyway. (Just between you and me, I think she's a lot more fun than I am, but don't tell her that, or she may not want to walk anymore. ;)
I'll update you as I continue to try not to die through this whole running thing.
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