So I went "running" for the first time outside this year. I put running in quotes, because I barely ran. I'm so out of shape.
Remember when I worked out at the gym? I pay for it and everything, and I even blogged about it here! Yeah, I don't remember the last time I went either. I need to cancel that thing. I had hopes for that gym relationship. I should have known it wouldn't last.
So I'm "running" on the Old Abe Trail (that's what it's called...I saw a sign) and after my nice, long warm-up walk, I begin my run.
Yeah! RUNNING! The first steps are great, but after about 30 seconds, I'm freakin' dying. I should really cut down on the empty calories - I know I'd have more energy. Reasoning: SCIENCE.
Okay, back on track, I'm "running" and this child...this little boy...this kid who can't be older than 10 years old approaches me. He's running at an outrageous speed (I am shocked. I am jealous. I am feeling really bad about myself.), and to top it off, he is carrying hand weights!!!
WHAT?
WHO? HUH? IS HE AN ALIENNNNNNNNNN?
And also, where is this kid's parents? Hmmmmm? He was running alone.
What a show-off.
But it was weirdly motivating. If a kid (or alien - we will never know) can run with hand weights and do it with ease, then *HECK YES, so can I.
*Ha! No, I will never run with hand weights. It sounds exhausting and terrible.
