Never Again

Tuesday night I went to the gym and ran on the tread mill. Whatever. That's not the point. I leave the gym all smelly and decide that since I don't have the kids with me that this is a good chance for me to run some errands.

As I am leaving my final destination (the copy store) I see my reflection in the door. Red sweaty face, disheveled hair, maternity jogging pants rolled up to keep them up but thereby making them two inches too short and making my waist look unnaturally fat rolly especially since the entire ensemble was topped off with a tighty undershirt that I had been wearing earlier that day. Whew! What a mess. Oh, and I failed to mention that I was wearing orange socks and pink tennis shoes that I bought 5 years ago at Kmart. They have silver reflectors on them---as if people wouldn't already be able to see me coming.

At that moment I vowed never to be seen in public like that again. Enough was enough. It is time for me to take charge of myself....

That lasted until yesterday, when I was feeling crappy, it was getting dark and I needed to run to the grocery store for some milk. Out I went in pajamas. I didn't even bother to consult my closet or a mirror for that matter. Bad decision on my part---when I came home my husband laughed and laughed. Finally choosing to look in the mirror I found myself with a Hitler style mustache left from my earlier fight with a spray paint can. At that moment I vowed never to be seen in public like that again. Enough was enough. It is time to take charge of myself....

Until next time.

Upon further self reflection I think that perhaps I should just give up and rename this whole blog something like "Liz's adventures in ill fitting clothing" or "What not to wear when buying Dr.Pepper" or (and I'm stealing a word here from my friend Beth) "How to dress like a Hobo". Hum...something to consider.

I Haven't Done This Since 8th Grade...

Tonight I did something that I haven't done since 8th grade. What could it be---the Roger Rabbit? Make out underneath the bleachers? Play Rad Racer? Peg my pants? No, no, and no. Although, I did play Rad Racer the other day at my parents and I enjoyed it. But that wasn't it---I ran a mile. Just one single solitary mile.

I know what your thinking and the answer is yes and yes. Yes, I really haven't run a mile since P.E. in 8th grade. Seriously. Runnings not my thing. And because I didn't take P.E. in high school or college, which eliminated the only reason I would have been found running, it's been that long. And yes, while it is true I've run around the block looking for a speeding bike child, there is no way I've run 1 whole, complete mile since the 8th grade.

So why did I do it? Pride. Insanity. My husband and brother just finished a marathon and want to enter more races. Not wanting to be left out and to show my superior toughness I signed up with them. However, before I can prove my mad running skills I need to develop them.

I'm not ashamed to admit that it took me 12 minutes and 25 seconds to run my first mile. And I figure that's not bad for almost two decades of unlimited shuffle, swagger, and cross-legged immobility.

For the record I did better on my second mile and for the record I will continue to do better. From now on it's me and the tread mill. So watch out boys because at the next race it will be "Liz, Liz baby. Dun Dun Dun Da Da Dun Dun"