5k Courtney

If you thought you heard the sound of someone panting like a dying pony this morning, it was me. I ran my first 5k (on my treadmill) in a reallllly long time. I am excited to say that I did not vomit or pass out. I also completely understand why those of you who marathon can run a 5k like it's nothing. When I consider that I didn't even run a third of a marathon this morning, I am even more in awe of the crazy people who actually run that far.
Let's make something clear. I didn't "run" a 5k, more like joggged. Or "wogged" as I like to call it. That means I jog as long as I can without falling over and then walk until I think I can jog some more. Sometimes I get really psycho and actually run part of the way, but I always regret it when I find myself gasping for air and thinking, "Surely I've been farther than that!"
Lest you read this and conjured up an image of some skinny person with bulging muscles, let me assure you that I am not. I am the halfway-done Biggest Loser contestant, who stands on the scale, marvels at how much weight they've lost, and in their mind hears the people at home saying, "Dang, she's STILL fat!" I say that with a smile, because I'm only half kidding. When I think about the effort I've put in, I should weigh approximately 98 pounds. When my scale thinks about the effort I've actually put in, it refuses to admit that I've lost an ounce. Piece of junk. It was probably assembled out of spare parts by a child in Bangladesh. I'm just sure that's it!
Either way, this morning's effort was purely the result of peer pressure. My husband heard me mention a benefit 5k for a high school friend and has begun to needle me mercilessly about how I should go do it because I "can." So this morning I proved to myself that I am physically capable of traveling that far. Whether I'm willing to do it in person is a horse of a different color.