Run Like the Wind!
Running. The final frontier. This is the voyage of the earthship Vanessa. Her five-month mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out sweat and new muscles, to go boldly where this Vanessa has never gone before.
I blame Facebook, really. If not for Facebook, I probably would have been happy with walking three times a week, trying to increase the distance and decrease my time. But no. I had to look at my friends on Facebook and wonder what was so appealing about running? Why were they paying good money to get up super early on a Saturday morning to run? Was it the t-shirt? The goodie bag? The chance to carb up prior to running?
I shall soon find out. Because soon, I will be one of them. Maybe only a couple of times, but I’m going to do it. Yes, just do it. (But I don’t wear Nikes.) I’m going to start off slow with a 2-mile run. Then there are two 5K runs that I have my eye on, one of which I have already signed up and paid for — and it’s non-refundable. That means it’s on like Donkey Kong.
I have tried to run a little during my outings. Yeah, it’s not happening. Nope, not until I get one very important item.
A sports bra.
Now, I’m not afraid of a little bra shopping. I understand the importance of proper support. But when I saw what I had to shop for, suddenly there was a tightness in my chest as I feared… Well, a tightness on my chest.
That is the most intimidating bra I’ve ever seen in my life. Is that titanium underneath?! Maybe it’s the model’s body. It’s kind of sinewy. And I think that’s supposed to be complimentary, but it is my goal to not ever be described as sinewy. Even though I do plan on using some weights (light ones, as my arms resemble pipe cleaners) so I don’t create a breeze when I wave, I don’t want to be sinewy.
Still. That bra. That scary, scary bra. I may have nightmares.
However, if my other nightmare ever really comes true, and someone jumps out at me from one of those crazy black vans that sit around the block, I think I can forget about gouging out an eye with my key and just swing my chest at them. Because with a bra like that, they will probably be knocked unconscious.
Anyway. I will run. I will either run like the wind or maybe just a light breeze. But I’ll do it, and I am positive there will be a sense of accomplishment. And maybe that is why people pay the money to get up early and run the race.
That, or the chance to feel like they’re on COPS, chasing down a perp while wearing a bullet proof vest.