Is This The "End of Days"?

I went running. For anyone who knows me well, I am notoriously an "indoor kid" who would rather spend her time shut up inside with a good book than outside, doing anything remotely athletic. One of my "claims to fame" was always being the person to finish running the mile in gym class last. Always. Last. And that was BEFORE I was a smoker.

Lately, however, it seems that everyone around me kicks ass at running. My sister just ran a marathon, which was awesome, but hell, if she can do it I can do it.

Plus...I'm sick of the roll of fat that hovers at my midsection. Damn you, muffin tops!

So I ran. In an AMAZING outfit that consisted of grey running shorts, white socks, red and white tennis shoes, and a brown tee shirt with anthropomorphic teeth dressed in winter clothes that reads "The Cozy Molars".

Here is a problem I had: What do people do with their keys when running? My shorts had no pockets, so I took my house key off the ring with the intention of putting it in my shoe. Then I somehow got really paranoid that it would come out of my shoe as I ran and I wouldn't notice because of the heart pounding and music listening.

So I ran with my iPod in one hand, clutching my house key in the other. This worked out fine, except both things ended up covered in sweat.

I felt good when I was done, in part because I did it and in part because I was able to run more than I had anticipated. Even as a smoker, I found that my legs started giving out before my lungs did. All in all, the route I chose worked out to be 1.5 miles, and I probably ran half of that distance, intermittently. For me, this is an achievement.

So *fingers crossed* I will get my ass up tomorrow morning and try it again. In an equally awesome outfit.