Okay, so I haven't been completely forthright with you. I interviewed for a slew of jobs and landed one that's pretty awesome, and I started yesterday. So yay for that! Now I won't have to take back all the clothes I bought! And no more mopey blog posts, I promise. It has been a rough week though -- ceiling started leaking again last night and then it actually cracked, so I slept on the couch due to fear of a porcelain bathtub crashing through the floor above me "Money Pit"-style and crushing Noli and me in our sleep. My chiropractor was very sypmathetic and hopes I get back in my 100% latex bed soon (I know that sounds weird but believe me, latex is the way to go. No coils to cause pressure points = best night's sleep of your life).
Anywho, remember how I said I was going to start training for a 5K? That was on an off day when I was bored and Margaret had somehow gotten me pumped up to the idea, since she just ran her first half marathon last weekend. She had her cute shamrock tee shirt on and was stuffing her face with cupcakes since you can eat whatever you want the week after a race, and in that moment it seemed like a good idea. So Tuesday I started the Couch Potato to 5K program. I had to go to Target, so I grabbed a shopping bag and began my brisk 5-minute walk.
Not bad, feels pretty good.
Then I had to run for 60 seconds.
Nothin' to it. I can do this.
Then I walked for 90 seconds.
Then I had to walk for 60 seconds again.
Ooh, shin splints comin' on. I can do this though.
Thank You Lord Jesus.
OMG everything hurts. Are my ears bleeding?
90-second walk. (I can see the Target sign in the distance -- not sure if it's a mirage but it looks beautfiul.)
60-second run. 60-second run. Hello! Run, legs!
But no, they would not run anymore. That's right, I made it roughly 10 minutes. And I am still paying for it.
So today, in my gorgeous new Banana Republic suit (made of Italian fabric!), I asked my new boss what he thought the problem was. (I've heard from several people he is an avid marathon runner, so I figured showing some interest in his passion might score some brownie points.) (Mmm, brownies.)
"I'm training for a 5K, but I really hate running. My whole body hurts after only a 10-minute jog! What am I doing wrong?"
"Your attitude is lousy, that's your problem."
"Also, you aren't wearing the right shoes."
How does he know? My cute little gray suede New Balances are just fine!
"You can't wear shoes just because you think they're cute. You have to go to a running store, get assessed, pay the extra money, and wear what fits your running style."
Is the man a mind reader? And then fear struck me. I was going to have to wear neon orange tennis shoes. Well, white with neon orange. My dad is a runner and he had a pair a few years ago, and I remember thinking they were hideous, but he loved those shoes. I just want to wear gray suede!!! Hmph!
Ugh, I am going to do this, though. So Saturday I plan to drag myself to some running store in Georgetown and buy proper shoes. My chiropractor does think I need to take it easy, though. My lower back is very fragile. (Am I paying him enough? This man says all the right things!)