Last night I went for my first run....did not go as planned. I had a mini movie in my head of me taking off running out of the driveway pushing my awesome new stroller and happily returning (still running) a mile or two later. Apparently I was smoking crack when that vison came to me! I did take off running out of the driveway, but less than half way down our block I noticed some major jiggling up top. I realized I wasn't wearing my sports bra. GREAT! I decided to keep going and stop and change when I came back around the block. But the boob jiggle wasn't an issue for long because after 20 more steps I couldn't breath! Wonderful, I can only run 3/4 of our block. Note to self, teach Ryland how to call 911 this week. So I walked back to the house breathing like I was in labor (I knew YouTube Lamaze would come in handy one day!), slowly changed bras so I could catch my breathe, and returned to the stroller. This time I walked out of the drive and kissed my pride good bye. Here I was with running clothes, shoes, and stroller WALKING! like an out-of-shape old lady. This is worse than I thought. After I had almost walked the whole neighborhood I was passed by a woman running who looked like she could eat me and my stroller. Oh H E Double Hockey Sticks NO! I'm going to believe that was God giving me a big dose of motivation and saying "Get your lazy pathetic big butt in gear!" That was all I needed, I started running (but not till she had almost made it around the cornor so if I passed out she couldn't point and laugh) and ran about 1/4 of the block when I noticed more jiggling. I think I need to wear my spanx (best invention ever, hands down!) when I run. Oh good grief, this is gross! Right now my high school body me is putting duct tape over my mouth so I cant eat and throwing an all out temper tantrum declaring my body a national state of disaster. I thought to myself, "Well at least it cant get worse". HA HA HA. Famous last words, you would think I would know not to say that anymore but I'm awfully hard headed. By the end of the block I quit running. Not because I was lazy or tired (that's a lie I was tired) but for my safety. Allowing my thighs to rub together that fast might catch my panties on fire. Its official. I'm a walking (not running, I'm too out of shape) ad for Lipo. If you have a flag, please fly it at half mast for me, this is a tragedy of epic proportion. But I think this ego crushing experience was good for me, now I am a woman on a mission. Hell hath no furry like a skinny woman trying to break out of the fat woman who ate her. So whats the lesson learned here? Remember the sports bra, 2 year olds are old enough to call 911, and always have an oxygen tank and fire extinguisher in the basket of the stroller.
Have a Blessed Day ~ Lauren