There are plenty of times I wish I were a twig, an Antelope or a mere lizard, just for the sake of making my relatives happy and achieving that wonderful goal, etc. I've seriously thought to myself on occassion, "Please, Let me be lanky again so I have an excuse to feel like an Antelope!" I haven't lucked out, yet, and this sucks even more so when I find that my size 34 roomy pants are now.....not so roomy. I've got these khaki cords I love that I bought because they felt super a few years ago. They fit just right, and looked a little dandy because I didn't have enough of a belly roll to keep myself from looking like a total neck. So, imagine my horror when I pulled them out to wear last month and found that they fit absolutely funny. No pooling, no belt needed---flab aplenty to hold them in place.
sigh
You know those butt-kicking moments that actually re-invigorate you sometimes? The running shorts moment will stand out for me as one of those catalysts that got me back into the running after a 3-month off-the-wagon-falling. For whatever reason, when I started getting sick, I suddenly stopped going to the gym ( I had to). I had been running regularly 2-3 times a week, and stopped dead cold. I have not been able to really pinpoint the reason, but I remember mulling over a couple of possible causes, among them the absolutely ridiculous idea that somehow the intensity of my stretching would rip my muscles ( Laughs ). Dumb, but it worked as a great excuse to lounge around.
This week, I got up and forced myself back into running, and back into work-out clothes that are unsettlingly tighter than they once were about 6 months back. I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm actualy motivated, because I loathe the entire experience the whole time I'm sweating and bobbling about. It's the feeling afterward that gets me soaring---the big payoff. As much as it sucks in the doing, I feel so incredible when I'm finished---damn near on top of the world. But, last night I felt like the bionic man, finally doing something I haven't done in years: I HOPPED, I mean hopped way higher than like way back. I regularly jogged and hopped to stretch until I almost dislocated my knee. Yup, things have healed quite nicely by now, and I decided to give it a try along Salcedo Village park last night. I made it almost an entire mile! I HATED every minute of it, but I'm really psyched about it because jogging has always been the only thing that ever kept my weight down. I've never been really fat, but it kept me at a reasonable size that, now in retrospect at several sizes bigger, seems like the golden ring. So, regardless of what people think, regardless of whether or not I think-hope-worry that I'm Mark Ruffalo thin, I really want to stick with this.
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