A friend of mine approached me yesterday about running a half marathon with her in June. The crazy part is that I'm actually considering it.
Here's the thing: I'm not really the model built for speed. More of the comfort line, if you will.
I do believe that I'm in decent shape, I work out like crazy, after all. But I do very little running. And by very little, I mean NONE. Unless you count chasing down my daughter at the grocery store/mall/Ikea/Target.
And I've heard horror stories from marathon runners. Ohmygod, did you know it can make your nipples bleed? For real. I don't recommend doing a search on Google for that.
But it's a group training thing, so I'll have some structure, and we will be raising money for charity, which makes me practically eligible for sainthood. Plus, and this may be the biggest reason I'm even contemplating it.
It's in Boston.
I luuuurve Boston. Neil? Not so much. He's never been there, but someone once told him something bad about it, although he can't remember who or what, and he doesn't like the town. Which means my visions of him and Sophie handing me water as I run by and hoisting me onto their shoulders at the finish line (a tough feat for a two year old, I'll grant you), may not come to pass.
So I've got six months to take my butt from no running to holy-crap-half-marathon shape. I think the harder task might actually be talking my husband into leaving the state.
*A dance I was woefully inadequate at, in its heyday.
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