I used to be a runner. This sounds hilarious said out loud, coming from me. I have not run in about three years, at all. When I stopped running, it was because I was in school full time, working full time, was the single parent of a Kindergartner and no longer had time for a half hour leisurely jog.
A year and a half later, I had lost fifteen pounds and my doc said “Don’t run again until you’ve gained at least ten pounds” I’d been absent from the sport for so long, obeying was easy. As my free time has opened and my weight has increased, I still haven’t made the move towards running. I’m three pounds shy of my prescribed weight goal.
I cannot wait any longer. I’m running.
I promise to eat sticks of butter and eat 10,000 almonds.
I don’t know why this hit me right now, but it did. I used to run 20-30 miles a week and my health was great and I wore pants a size larger than I do now. Also, I miss running. I’m ready to restart our relationship. If he’ll take me.