As I think you all know, I…am a couch potato. Like professional-grade couch potato. I like my TV and I like my computer and I like my tiny couch. But because I’m getting older and I feel like I’m starting to carry a bit of extra weight that I really shouldn’t be, I’ve been harboring immoral thoughts.
Thoughts about being a runner.
Not like a marathon-grade runner, but someone who doesn’t look like she’s going to die when she climbs the stairs and could potentially outrun a murderer. But since I’m not at the murderer-outrunning stage yet, I don’t really want to go running outside (there’s always some lone girl running at dusk out by the cemetery that’s sort of nearby and I really don’t want to be that girl) – and the fact that I would actually be seen by people because of the whole looking-like-I’m-going-to-die thing. I mean, I wouldn’t get anywhere for people pulling over to see if I need help. Plus in my neighborhood, there are a lot of runners – I live in the hippie part of town – who all effortlessly look like gazelles. That’s a lot to measure up to!
So I have this now:
No, I didn’t even get off my couch to take that picture. But I have a plan! We’ll see how long it lasts – I’m hoping that making myself accountable to you all will help me stay motivated – but I can see this idea having one of…four outcomes:
- I die a horrible death either due to my out-of-shapeness or by some sort of tragic accident (I can totally see myself taking a giant faceplant or sliding off the back in a graceless heap).
- My downstairs neighbors complain about the noise of the treadmill.
- I lose interest. Frankly, based on my track record, this is the most likely, but I’m really going to try! Because I really don’t want to have a heart attack and die before I’m 30. Which is worryingly soon.
- I eventually join the herd of gazelles.