So, I've NEVER been super athletic, ever. I mean. I took personal fitness twice in high school, 'cause I refused to run. I have done races, I've run/walked all of them, some pretty successfully... but never, ever have I really run. Ever.
But I've been coveting these running skirts, and then I tried to tell H I wanted to run the Disney Princess half next spring... and he scoffed at me.
So I bribed myself, and told myself I could buy a skirt when I run a mile, straight through, and don't stop to walk. If I can do a 5K straight through by the November race I've registered for, I'll do the Disney trip. I figured, these are good goals. I have - literally - never, ever run more than half a mile at a time, ever, and that was only right before the CDM5K Snork and I did in June. Then I stopped running, until, like a month ago.
Then. Last week? I ran 3/4 of a mile. And I was shocked - SHOCKED! - texting poor Squirrel, as if my 3/4 compares at all to her millions of miles a week. (Who, BTW, just reviewed what seems to be the most magical sports bra ever, and I think I need a Zensah Sports Bra, like, yesterday.)
Then!! Last night?
I'm not even sure how that happened. But it did. IT DID!