Cue the Music

Today was the day. The gauntlet had been thrown down. I had no choice. Today I attempt three miles or die. Now I realize for those of you who are, shall we say physically fit, that three miles isn’t a BIG deal. It’s just three miles. Something that you could do in your sleep, but for a girl like me, three miles is large. Not huge, not monstrous, but larger than say two and half.

I was pretty darn sure I could walk three miles, but could I run it? Could I run part of three miles? Any of three miles? Would my knee rebel and lock in place? Would my hip suddenly plan a mutiny with my thigh and render me wounded and helpless? Would I lie in a pathetic, crumpled heap upon the black recycled tread of who knows how many old tires? Would there be laughter?

Drum roll please



YES! Not only could I walk three miles, but I could jog nearly half of it.

From goal post to goal post I jogged.

My hip hurt and said, “Hey, Idiot Girl! What do you think you are doing?”

I said, “Shaddup”.

My knee said, “Excuse me? Fat girl? Have you forgotten that fat girls don’t do this sort of thing? Wouldn’t you rather have a nice piece of chocolate? Slice of pizza? Starbucks frappe-dappa-mocha chino?”

I said, “Forgetaboutit”

And when I rounded that final lap (lap 12 if you’re counting) I started to smile. I could hear the Rocky theme in the background. My eyes filled with tears. I’d done it. I’d picked up the gauntlet and ran with it.

I am woman and I jog.

HEAR ME ROAR!