Run, Jane, Run

I’m not super good at making New Year’s Resolutions. If past history is any indication, I actually kinda suck at it. To wit: I have yet to go to the gym three times a week for an entire year, I don’t always get laundry done every weekend, and my yarn stash has not magically reduced itself in any measurable way (however, my fabric stash is multiplying like bunnies on Viagra). So I’m not making a resolution this year. I’m setting a goal. That’s totally different.

I’m not a very physical being; my favorite place in the entire world is curled up in the corner of my couch, Kindle in hand, blanket draped across my legs. I don’t relish sweating. I don’t get the high from working out that everyone else does (and quite frankly, I think they are lying out of their asses about it, because really, endorphins? That sounds totally made up.) But I’m coming to that crossroads that every woman eventually hits – where you have to make the decision to either move your ass or buy bigger pants. And y’all, bigger pants are NOT an option. Bigger pants are the sign of failure. Bigger pants might make me cry into my delicious bowl of ice cream and caramel sauce, and you don’t want to ruin ice cream with salty tears.

Austin is a big running community. At any point during the day, or even possibly the night because these people are crazy insane, you will find people jogging and running and walking and generally doing that exercise thing. We have trails and paths and specialty running shops and running clinics and all sorts of things to help you get into top running shape. And in the spirit of all of that, I got myself up and went out into the FREEZING COLD (seriously, it was below freezing) and I…jogged. This morning. Before the sun was up.

If you have any inkling of how hard it is for me to get up before dawn, then maybe you get just how monumental this is. Like…angels wept at my effort.

Getting back to the goals, the entire purpose of this is to get ready for this:

Ha, I kid.

Oh, ha. Hahaha. Except not. Just the thought of THAT much distance makes my legs curl up in defeat, like someone dropped a house on me. That’s the big race on that day, but there’s a smaller one that starts about 30 minutes after the Captain Freakin’ Insane group has already started, and that would be the race I’m participating in. Although, it’s less of a race and more of a “OHMIGOD, DON’T LET ME DIE OR MAKE A FOOL OF MYSELF.” Both of which are equally possible.

That's more like it

The best part about this is that my sister, who’s a Runner, will be doing the half-marathon. I’ll get to be down there with her, before she takes off on her absolutely insane 13.1 miles. And then I’ll take off on my pathetic little 3.1 mile run, and I’ll be there to cheer her on when she makes it back across the finish line. Of course, with my pace, she might just beat me back. And then I’ll beat her with my iPod. I was looking for an excuse to buy a new one anyway.