I used to love running.
Okay, that is not true. Let's try again:
I used to run.
There. That was true. I used to run quite a bit, actually, for track several years ago (7, but who's counting?). I quit track my sophomore year of high school and haven't looked back.
I had several half-hearted attempts at getting back into it throughout college. I discovered treadmills took away the pain of the freezing cold of winter. I got new running shoes (only because there was a sale and my pair was really, really old). I swore to my roommates that THIS SEMESTER- this was it. We would... WORK OUT. And be good and stuff.
Yeah, didn't happen.
But in the back of my mind, I always told myself I'd start running after college. Maybe start doing 5ks and road races and stuff, you know, for fun.
Well. I graduated 13 days ago, and today on my way back to the house after work, I decided today was as good a day as any. Actually, it was better considering it has warmed up considerably.
So I did. I ran. Sort of. I jogged... and walked... and then... I swallowed a bug.
To say the least, it was a less than auspicious beginning.