Rainbows, trainers and beer!

Holy fuck... I thought I was in relatively good shape; apparently not. I have started a 10K training program. Today was day one of week one. Run, walk, run, walk...you get the point. I hate running, jogging and all other forms of the "r" word. Things bounce around that shouldn't, the impact on my hips sucks and it's totally BORING. Give me a bike, a mountain, a lake, rapids, canoe, parachute.. ANYTHING but trainers and cement. Alas, these things are not working for my very persistent mommy tummy and pot of melting chocolate ass (a whiter shade of pale chocolate though). Plus I have signed up for a 5K run in which I get paint splashed all over me at one kilometre intervals. http://www.colormerad.com/races/vancouver.html

This Colour Me Rad run is really the only motivator I have. The chance to be Rainbow Brite and get in better shape? Who wouldn't take it? Even if I die running, it will be worth it. A few friends, lots of paint and a beer at the end (I added that part) will make for a killer day at UBC.

So here I am, end of a work day in which hauling around boxes full of electronics is commonplace, up since 5:00am and attempting to run/walk my way around the neighbourhood. The dog was trying to keep up and not sniff everything in sight but alas I had to take her home as she was slowing me down. Something tells me that training will not be as effective if I have to stop for a sniff every block or so. Did my neighbours see me and laugh? What about that guy that drives the awesome car I lust after? I wouldn't fucking know as I was so absorbed in the rockin' music, ACDC, and trying not to trip over my own feet, I didn't even notice when my iPod told me it was time to stop. Yup.. I just kept going. At some point I did notice one of my coworkers drive by and honk. This pretty much means I shall be the butt of many jokes tomorrow. Woo.

So about sixty minutes later, I realised it was time to stop and quickly made my way home. I stretched, opened the front door and sat at the foot of the stairs. I just could not bring myself to climb up the fourteen steps to get to my couch. The dog was licking the sweat off my face as I laid back and stared at the skylight hoping for death. All I could think about was whether or not getting paint dumped all over me and losing the belly was worth it. Yes. It. Is.

The moral of the story is... I've no fucking idea. Maybe it's this: Just because you can ride a bike and climb a mountain, doesn't mean you are in good cardiovascular shape. Get out there and do some jogging or very fast walking or even just regular walking. Your heart will thank you for it. Who knows, maybe you can get splashed with paint too!