Confession time, peeps. Are you ready for this?
I actually enjoy running.
I am screaming inside my head right now. It is like the universe is out of control and up is down and north is south and chocolate is actually bad for you. I feel like I don't even know myself anymore. Who am I? Who are you?
I think I need a padded room.
But before you all call me a traitor and never invite me over for dessert again, I want to be clear on the specific aspects on running that I like and don't like. First, I actually don't enjoy running WHILE I am running. Truth be told, I kind of wish I could collapse and die by minute 20. But, afterward. Oh, afterward, there is this heightened feeling of elation and lightness that can be attributed to either dehydration or some sort of runner's high...whatever that is.
Second, the feeling of accomplishment is monumental. And I carry this with me each day like I am some sort of professional athlete.
And third, someday my tuckus will thank me. And so will the new pair of jeans I want to buy.
So there you have it, folks. The FC has lost her mind and has once again bonded with her stupid treadmill. And if you ever get a phone call from me and all you hear is heavy breathing and gasping, don't hang up! Just send an ambulance and pray that I wasn't catapulted over the balcony of the loft in my apartment.
Oh, and bring cookies.