I want to run. No. Wait. I don't think you understand. I WANT TO RUUUUUUNNNN! Because... it keeps me sane*. It makes me happy. It gives me time to be BY MYSELF. Heck, I ran a 12K seven weeks after giving birth (with a c-section none the less) because I NEEDED TO! Sure, I got a crappy time, but the time was all mine, BABY! (Yes. Literally.)
So what's the issue? Go run. Get up, and go. Just do it. Get off your butt before your butt gets you. And all that other stuff those motivation posters say with the cheetahs and junk. But I can't. Doctor's orders. My hip, after years of scorning all things trendy and...hip :) decided to finally join the in crowd** and chucked out a random piece of joint cartilage. Gone. Probably down in my pinkie toe by now, desperately trying to fit in. And I'm stuck with trying to keep myself sane by swimming. You know, in cold water, with a skin tight swim suit, that doesn't cover my butt (that's out to get me). Because running not only kept me sane and happy but it also kept me SKINNY! Now, I'm looking at those maternity clothes I have stashed at the back of my closet and thinking, "Wow, that looks cute!"***
(Disclaimer! Yes, I am running a triathlon this weekend. Yes, I'm supposed to be resting my hip-but, come on, it's not like I trained for the thing!)
*Seriously, you should have gone to high school with me-nuttier than a fruitcake out the wazoo! Um... but hopefully not as gross....
**OK, I can't actually name a famous soccer player that has this type of thing, but I was assured by the MD that it was going around, or whatever he said-Maybe I should have been paying closer attention-I probably needed to go running....
***No. They don't.
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