I wish I loved to run. I can totally see the appeal of it being a really convenient mode of exercise. All you need are your running shoes, some shorts, a tee and a good sports bra and off you go. But the jarring on my joints and the burn in my lungs...ugh.
I use to run. I think I might have even liked to run at one time. I liked it enough that I joined cross-country and track in high school. Then I stepped into a hole while doing wind sprints on the football field and messed up my knee. An orthopedic suggested I take up a "non-impact sport" like swimming. This was the beginning of the end of my running career...but I did have a lot of fun on the swim team. In my twenties I dated a couple guys that were serious runners so I laced up my running shoes and tailed along...begrudgingly. It was a total ruse to spend time with the cute guys. I can admit that now that I've married my soul-mate, a handsome and charming non-runner.
I do need a convenient mode of exercise though. It has become painfully obvious that exercise is going to be the only way I can continue to enjoy the consumption of fine foods and craft beers while maintaining the ability to fit into my favorite jeans. This is the depressing truth of a 40-something year old metabolism. Since the gym membership isn't working -- although I love working out, with a full time job that involves 90 minutes of round-trip travel, I hate schlepping to the gym to be away from the family even longer -- an exercise routine that I can fit into little windows of free time from home will be ideal.
So this week I started a walking routine that was intertwined with little bursts of speed that could be mistaken for a jog. I'm not sure I will ever
love to run...but who knows, may be I'll be able to build up enough endurance to outrun something frightening that might be chasing me.
