So, here I am... a dainty, fresh, spring-like flower determined to run off the pounds.
Oh, okay. I am not fresh and I don't believe I was even born dainty. But, determined I am.
As we all recall (you know... the both of you who actually read this) ... I hit the streets (literally) on Monday and ran the equivalent of a full lap around the track that is across the street from where I live. I survived that night's adventure. Came home. Cooled down. Showered and went to bed.
I woke up on Tuesday thinking I was not going to be able to move. But... I could! I scampered right out of bed (okay, I rolled) and skipped to the bathroom (crawled) and started my day on a high note! (An hour late to work). But there was NO PAIN. None.
And then, my friends, Tuesday evening appeared. Apparently the muscles were happy to move as I willed until approximately 24 hours post exercising event. Then, they rebelled. Oh... the ache. The inhumanity of it all! I wisely determined that it would be very BAD if I were to attempt to run again. So, I exercised in the house instead, doing some simple ab work, etc. Nothing too strenuous... just enough to let my muscles know who was in charge!
On Wednesday morning, my muscles let ME know who was in charge and I found myself crawling up the stairs at the office (Okay, I really took the elevator) and was VERY happy that I was unable to exercise that night because I was going to a small group meeting that was at the church I have been visiting.
Fast forward to this evening. The muscles had repaired themselves and the weather was nice enough (not too hot and humid) to hit the streets again. As I was making my second walking lap (to warm up) I found a few hoodlums had perched themselves on the playground and I didn't feel all that secure being by myself on the track (dainty, fresh flower that I am). So, I modified my route a little bit to stay closer to civilization and decided that since the length was shorter, I could make the run a few more times.
So what if the track sloped downhill for the most of the way? I was still running. My heart was still pounding, my lungs were still bellowing (can your lungs bellow? I am thinking of an old-fashioned bellows that people had next to a fireplace) and my muscles started screaming at me again.
I have survived night two of the running. Survived. Night Dos!
And when I looked up, the Lord blessed me with my very own rainbow. Just. For. Me.