Do you ever have one of those moments where you see someone doing something you used to do and have a dim fleeting memory of doing it yourself--but the memory seems oddly foreign to you. That was the sensation I felt while reading a friend's blog today. I had a dim shot of awareness, like, "Hey, I used to do that..." and then I came on here, prepared to write something, and just looked at the blank page and the blinking cursor with something akin to panic. I have nothing to write about.
Well, that's not entirely true. I mean, if someone were to hypothetically put a gun to my head and order me to write a blog on the spot, I'm sure I could think of something. But that being said, no one is pointing a gun at my head, and I'm just not driven to write anything of my own volition.
But since I'm here, I guess I can tell you about my latest project (I know, I know, I always have a project, or a diet, or a plan, or a thought and 9 times out of 10 it gets abandoned in favor of another project, diet, plan, thought, etc.) But this plan isn't new. It's actually a re-visitation.
Once again, I have started a Couch to 5K program. Only this time, I'm not going at it all loosy-goosey. Before I started, I went to Fleet Feet and made sure I had the proper insole and the proper footwear. Then I researched online why I have uncontrollable itching when I run and what I could do about it (antihistimines 30 minutes before I run). I'm using a real Couch to 5K program, and training with Kira, who also runs. I run (or have run this week, at least) religiously 3x a week.And I like it. One week down, 8 weeks to go...
I was expecting it to be hard, and I was expecting to fall into an exhausted/sore/begraggled heap after every 1 min run, but it was actually pretty easy. Maybe this coming week and the 90 min runs will kill me, but I'm hoping I surprise myself, and find that running isn't the miserable ordeal for me that it once was.
I couldn't quite give up on the idea of me running a 5K, and now I have new goals. I want to do the Albany Color Me Rad 5K in July. I've always been drawn to the unusual, so of course I want to do the (whimsical? masochistic?) race where every half mile or so I'm pelted with colored cornstarch. And after that, I want to do a Halloween race (in costume of course), a Thanksgiving turkey trot, and a Christmas Jingle Bell run--all those things that seemed so out of reach before.
But my major MAJOR goal is to run the Disney Princess Half Marathon next February. In a tiara and a tutu, because, and here's my dirty little secret- I love this sort of thing.
Before I started selling thirty-one, I was just a utilitarian kind of girl. I told myself that all the frouf and frills, and the matchy-matchy monogrammed stuff was a stupid, pointless endulgence--up there with mani-pedis, blow outs, flat iron-smooth hair, and grosgrain-bow bedecked flipflops, all nightmarish layers in my own personal Southern Belle Hell. I wanted none of it. I made it my mission in life to avoid looking cute at all costs.
But then something happened when I started dressing to complement my new cute bags. I don't know exactly what it did to my head, but at some point I realized that resistence was futile. Something about having 97 different bags was good for my soul. Cute shoes, embellished tank tops, and sparkly necklaces started to make me exceedingly happy. So when I heard that there was a tiara medal to be won if I ran 9 miles through Disney World, well I didn't care if that was 9 miles barefoot across hot coals, I wanted it. No, not wanted... coveted. That tiara is mine.
I didn't know I wanted to be a Princess, but I do. And I'm going to be the kind that runs half marathons.