Confessions of a snarky ghetto-fabulous wanna-be runner.

Last fall my friend Abbie started running.  At some point I said “Let’s run a race together!”  So, in the spirit of “go big or go home,” we decided on the Fifth Third River Bank Run.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, this race is huge.  It features the largest 25K road race in the country!

 

 

Ok, well, guess what?  I haven’t exactly been running lately.  And when I say “lately” I mean not one single time since August when my boob went wonky.  It’s not like I forgot about the race, which by the way is May 8, it’s just that I don’t run outside in the winter.  I also don’t run on the treadmill, so don’t even bother with that suggestion.

So, the other day I’m talking to Abbie and I’m all “Are we still going to run the Fifth Third?” (please say no)  And she’s all “Yeah, of course.” (damn it)  Then I’m all “Which run should we do?” (please don’t say 25K)  And she was like “Let’s do the 10K.” (Thank you, baby Jesus!)  That’s when I was like “Ok, sounds good.  I haven’t been running in awhile, but I’ll start tomorrow and it’ll be all good.” (Liar!)

I think that was Monday.  So, today I thought ok, I can do this.  The sun is shining, birds are singing (not really), and my boob is in good shape.

Well, here’s the thing.  It’s still cold.  40 degrees today, to be exact.  And I don’t have any clothes for cold weather running.  I looked for the Nike running tights I had in 7th and 8th grade for cross country, but I couldn’t find them.  I know I had them in this house, but I think Shawn made me get rid of them since they were from 7th grade.  I shouldn’t have listened to him, because does spandex really go bad?

But, like the fat lady and the jumping jacks, I was not going to be deterred.  Here’s where it gets ghetto fabulous.  I found some leggings, as in leggings that go under a dress, and then put yoga pants over top of them.  Next, I layered a wife beater over my sports bra and then put on a North Face shirt.  Oh, I almost forgot!  I also put some giant socks on and pulled them up like tube socks over the leggings.  Last, add a super girl bandana to my head, and I’m ready to run!

Yeah, ok.  So, I looked nothing like that.  I hobbled.  I huffed.  I puffed.  I hawked a loogy at someone’s dog.  I cursed out my iPod because the Nike-Sensor-Whore was not updating me on my miles.  I tripped on my shoelace.  I froze my arse off.  I flipped off some teenage boys.  But, in the end, I did it.

When I got home I realized I had only gone 3.2 miles.  Oh well.  My pace was 10 minutes, which is not even close to where I was last summer.  Again, oh well.  I still burned 350 calories, and I did it with a smile.  Ha.  Yeah right, who am I kidding?  I was pissed the whole time.