I am not a runner. I do not enjoy running, or exercise, and I am convinced a “runner’s high” and the enjoyment a person claims to feel with a “release of endorphins” is just something skinny people who don’t eat cheesecake tell the rest of us because they’re jealous of our desserts.
But I, like any woman who reads fashion magazines and has a Facebook feed full of people bragging about their diets and exercise plans*, sometimes get on a kick. I’ll walk for three days in a week. I’ll put together a lil exercise routine that can be completed in front of my television so Leonard and Sheldon can keep me company during leg lifts.
For the last three months, even, I’ve been watching what I eat (GASP!). Oh, I’m not insane about it. If I want a chocolate malt, I get a chocolate malt, dammit. But I’ve been making better choices. (It all stemmed from when I stepped on the scale after our honeymoon and was at my scary weight. Three months and 10 pounds later, I’m a much happier girl who listens to her body when it is full.)
And when I started that particular “I can be healthy, wheeeee!” kick at the beginning of the summer, I found myself looking into one of my city’s Color Runs, a 5K where people douse you with water-based paint so, by the end, you look like a unicorn took a shit on your chest.
It turns out, a friend of mine had signed up for the run with two of her friends. I was on the fence until I found out a portion of all the proceeds would benefit the Special Olympics, which was enough to push me over the proverbial rainbow cliff.
Five kilometers is just longer than 3 miles, which, even in my state of utter sloth, is not a far distance, especially for a girl who always planned to walk the thing. Granted, the three girls on my team are all runners and exercise nuts, but meh, I don’t mind walking the thing myself.
Now, the run is on Saturday and I’ve been thinking about it, and … what person in her right mind signs up to walk a Color Run ALONE. It’s not even a real race, it’s an arts and crafts project for grown-ups, which is much more fun with friends. And honestly, these girls are serious racers. They’ll do them on back-to-back weekends and, like, look good in a sports bra while doing it.
So basically, I’m like “I signed up for this. I have no interest in doing this anymore. If I go, I’ll potentially have fun, OR I’ll potentially weep on the inside, wanting to go home.”
* No, I do not think all diet-related posts on Facebook are crap. There are legit folks out there looking to be healthy, and I am immensely proud of my friends who are becoming healthier. To me, that is a far cry from those who share a photo of every protein shake, share every inspirational quote they read, pat themselves on the back every three hours.