My 5k debut is getting closer. Much closer. As in, it's Saturday. Two days from now. I am confident that I can finish. I am also confident that I will not be setting any records. But I will be there, putting in the effort, and I suppose that's what matters. I got an awesome headband for the race that says, "Will Run for Ice Cream" and an armband for my music. Naturally, I wish I had started training sooner so that I could be going faster by now, but I suppose everyone has to start somewhere.
I am not one of "those" women who run. You know, the ones who go grocery shopping in their running shorts and have a 26.2 sticker in their back window. I am one of those people who mention casually that I'm going to run a 5k and have people say, "Really? You're going to run? You're going to run 5k?" while trying not to look so surprised.
I am one of those people who's going to have a Susan Powter moment. Not the moment where she went mental, got a crew cut and dyed it blonde, but the one where she suddenly bent over to check out her thighs and screamed, "My thighs don't rub together anymore!" It's coming, I swear it is. That bucket of bolts I call a scale was finally forced to admit that I had lost a couple of pounds, but more importantly, my clothes are fitting looser and my wobbly bits aren't as wobbly anymore. So I feel like I am making progress, slowly but surely.
I promised my friend Beth that I would never run a 5k in her honor. So I can't say that this one is for her, but since it's for a high school classmate who has leukemia, I don't figure she would mind. Either way, Beth's going to get a kick out of me huffing and puffing along, I'm fairly certain about that. It's "only" 3.1 miles, right?
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