I became a runner as a last resort. I had tried running in the past and I hated it. Running hurt. It burned my lungs and made my legs itch. Bored of my workout videos, short on time and the cash for a gym membership, anticipating a 10-year class reunion, and carrying around extra baby weight from my second child, I began to run. Jenny, my yellow lab who needed to loose a few herself, was my partner. It was an ugly thing at first. Run a block, walk a block, run two, walk one, etc. When I reached the “run 3, walk 1” sequence, I thought I was really something. I visualized my thighs and butt tightening. I could see the bikini. I tried to get to “run 4” but it was hard to do- especially because by this time my class reunion and bikini weather had come and gone. With the chill of autumn in the air, it seemed that giving into a size up and winter sweats would be a good alternative to killing myself 3 times a week. Everything changed when my husband got me an ipod for Christmas.
