Well, yesterday was the first session of the women’s running camp. I had participated last year and enjoyed it so much I thought I’d sign up again. I also convinced my friend, Karin, to join me.
At first, we were excited. Then we panicked. Holy crap. We’re not ready to run. Hell, we’re not ready to walk. It’s been a long, painful winter in Minnesota and hardly motivating to get up and get moving.
Of course, the first day of camp, and it’s freezing. The instructor told us it was the coldest it’s ever been for the class. Great. Thanks. I’m really looking forward to this now. It’s bad enough I have the bladder of a gnat and have to pee every 20 minutes and now you’re going to make me run in this? Note to self: buy some Depends for next week.
We get outside and head for the running track. It’s miserable. Then we start to run. Even more miserable. Karin and I started yelling for someone to measure the track because we were sure it was way more than a mile. Next, we started fantasizing about what we’d eat when we were done. At the top of the list was a fast food drive-thru, pizza, and beer. ..and we wonder why we’re fat.
It was amazing how the run seemed to go faster the more we complained and thought about food. Before we knew it, we weren’t just sucking wind, we were crossing the finish line hunched over and gasping for air.
Needless to say, we can’t wait for next week. We’re running around a local park in frigid weather and full of hills. The reward is going to a running store afterward for snacks, discounted shopping, and flirting with the cute owner. Maybe attempted running isn’t so bad after all?
Confused Woman! 
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