So when I got home from work, I threw on some running shoes and tippy-toed up my ice-slicked lane to the road, where it was damn cold. But dry and not slippery. I didn’t run, though.
I walked, all hunched over like a C-shaped woman, a veritable comma-lady, trying not to freeze to death. Oh! And I haven’t exercised since October—OCTOBER—before I got sick and had surgery and spent a thousand years recovering. It’s going to be a long time before I can get up to running, because:
- I have never been a runner anywhere but in my head. (My brain gets one hell of a workout, though.)
- Even though I didn’t run, I was kind of in shape from walking, which would have made becoming a runner/jogger/trotter easier than the shape I’m in now.
- My shape is that of a bottom-heavy pear. I do not like this shape. It is not aerodynamically sound.