Yesterday I was toying with the idea of going for a run. I haven't done that in a while so it seemed like a good idea. Alas, my running shoes were in The Hunnie's car and he was at work. Oh shucks. So I happily loafed on the couch killing brain cells with truly terrible television.
Today, just as I was making a nest on the couch for Truly Terrible Television: Day Two, The Hunnie came home and wanted to play XBox. I acquiesced and had a brilliant stroke of genius: I'll go for a run while he plays his game! Before I could talk myself out of it, I changed and headed to the gym.
I decided it would be a brilliant idea to see how far I could push myself. I was feeling brave. Hell, I was wearing my short shorts and a tight running top! I looked like a runner, ergo I could be a runner!
Turns out, my quasi-logic was flawed, to say the least.
It started out good, simple warm up and started running at a brisk clip.
"Hmmm... I wonder how long I can keep running for?"
After 4 1/2 minutes, the sweat was pouring down my face. I hate to sweat. Ew. But I persevered and picked up the pace after 90 seconds.
5 more minutes goes by. I have lost all feeling in my face. And I'm dizzy. But, I've run a half mile straight in 5 minutes! Hooray!! Hmmm.... Am I breathing anymore?
Okay, slow it down.
Time elapses and I have no idea what happened during these 10 minutes...
I regain mental focus and realize that I'm still running. That's a good sign, right? I decide that I've done really well and can just walk the rest of my time on the treadmill.
Just then, my new favorite empowering song comes on my iPod.
"I can do it. Just run for this whole song and you'll be done. The timing is perfect."
Just as the song is finishing, my stomach doesn't feel right. Uh oh. I think I'm going to throw up. I slow down, a lot, and attempt the 5 minute cool down process. Nope. That's not helping. I stop completely, and take some deep breaths. Nope. Not helping either.
I can run to the bathroom right now and throw up, and lose my pride in the process... or, I can suck it up, walk the block home and if need be, leave my pride behind a bush. I chose the latter.
Fortunately, I was able to make it home with my pride still in my stomach and with 2 miles under my belt!
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lay on the floor of the bathroom, as "my pride" is still not settled...
Moral of today's story?
~If The Hunnie wants to play his XBox while you are watching bad TV, buy a second TV and ignore the instinct to pretend you are Marion Jones.