It seems like all my forty something friends are doing the unthinkable….they are running. Every time I log on to Facebook I am bombarded with posts about how they are running 5Ks, running in the rain, running miles and miles just to make me feel bad.
I am sure they are doing it for their health and well being…blah, blah, blah…but it just makes sitting on the couch watching Real Housewives of New Jersey feel a little less like the right thing to do. How could my beer guzzling lethargic college buddies have forsaken me?
I have never had the burning desire to run. If someone was chasing me with a sharp object and an evil intent I might be able to run a very short distance. When my lungs started burning and my calves began spasming I would just give up and give in.
My husband is a runner. After running he collapses onto our bedroom floor and it takes him about an hour to cool down and return to normal. The only scenario I can imagine that would involve me getting that hot and sweaty on purpose involves Patrick Dempsey and a very expensive bottle of wine.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some things about the running world that I enjoy. I think the clothes are really cute. I have been known on more that one occasion to sport a pink Nike track suit with a matching Nike baseball cap. Pair that ensemble with a simple pair of diamond studs and cute tennis shoes and I am ready to tackle my favorite obstacle course, the mall.