And I'll tell you why. Cause I've been doing an awful lot of it lately, that's why. I am running my little heart out, putting my feet inside a humble pair of running shoes that only cost me $115 and pounding the pavement to nothin'. Why do I do this to myself? I am really not sure, cause I don't like it. Really, I *almost* hate it. I can't stand to hear myself gasping for air like it's my last breath, I detest the feeling of my bladder bouncing uncomfortably within the tendons that are supposed to hold it into place, I hate my boobs bouncing in front of others and I mean really bouncing despite my "bounce free" sports bra, but most of all, I really hate the nearly incapacitating need to empty my bowels within 5 minutes of starting out a run. TMI you say, no my friend, it is not. I only tell you this to spare you from even attempting this archaic form of exercise yourself. I've been sucked into it because of my highly competitive, "I must spend hundreds of dollars on this new hobby of mine", nature. But I hope to spare you.
Walking is the way to go. Yes, yes, I know, the "cool" people run. They run marathons for fun, yes they do! And they do it in their underwear with their clearly defined abdominal muscles free of stretchmarks and that winter warming layer of blubber, being highlighted with each intake of breath. But I'll tell who's gonna have the last laugh, the walkers. Oh yes, while the runners are on their way to the hospital for multiple joint replacements, the walkers will quietly hold up their "I TOLD you so, you fool" mantles. Yes, they will go to the grave with their very own joints intact. It's like Bill Gates people. You know he got made fun of all through school, but who's laughin' now? So put on your power walking shoes, roll your hips, and swing those arms baby! And do it with pride, cause you're the smart one.
So, I ran 7 miles on Thursday, and I ran through the gully twice, and I didn't walk at all. I was all proud of myself until I woke up the next morning. Oh boy, my right knee did NOT like that run at all! It had puffed itself up to twice its normal size in its anger over my tomfoolery. It refused to bend, it laughed at my attempts to quiet it with Ibuprofen, but most of all, it punished me for my stupidity by aching in a nearly unbearable fashion all.day.long. And this comes after a barely healed sprained ankle. I think my joints are trying to tell me something, but I will not listen. No sirree, I will soldier on. Cause I found this:
And by THIS!, I mean "the Frog Bra" by Title Nine Sports. Oh yeah, it guarantees no more bouncing, ever. It costs a mint, but hey, I'd do a lot for no more bouncing while running, ever. So I ordered it and I anxiously await it's arrival at my doorstep. So there's one thing I might be able to change, the bounce factor. Perhaps the next time I run, I will hate it just a little bit less.