Nike was right. Just do it.
I finally got off my ass last night and ran. I was terrified that I would be unable to run after all these years of doing absolutely nothing resembling activity. (And no, typing on a computer does not equate to activity.) I was truly envisioning a Biggest Loser scenario. One where I would run 100 yards, stop and vomit. And have to be taken away on a stretcher.
But that didn't happen. I made it a mile. It wasn't a pretty sight. Something between an akward skip and a lunge. But it qualified as running.
I'm also on day 13 of giving up sugar for Lent.
I did cheat one morning. The morning of the tsunami warning. I couldn't take it. I added a scoop of sugar to my coffee. I sinned. Add it to my huge file of sins. If this is the sin that breaks the camel's back, I'm in serious trouble.
I'm trying to eat less, move more. Because it hit me on my 34th birthday that my life could either be 1/3 over or 1/2 over. I'd prefer it be 1/3 over. And I'd like to really take care of myself for a change.
Maybe I'll surprise everyone. Most of all, maybe I'll surprise myself.