Now what.

I have officially thrown in the running towel.  After shuffling through a two to three mile run, my pelvic bones feel like they are going to crumble in a pile on the floor.  For multiple days afterwards, going up stairs and putting on pants makes me look like a ninety year old arthritic-ridden woman.  SIGH.

Right before I began growing this little girl, I read this book:
And suddenly running was not so much a means to an end (such as being skinny or even being healthy,) as it was something I really started to enjoy.  I liked feeling my blood pump through my veins.  I liked feeling the muscles of my legs work.  I felt  fast and ... cool.  That juvenile word is the most accurate I can come up with.  I had always considered myself a two-mile girl; that was enough to get the endorphins moving, why on earth would I want to do more?  But soon those two mile runs stretched into four, five, and six miles.  Why not?  I knew I could do it, regardless of how much I had "trained".

What really took me back to the days of "I'm-one-cool-cat-because-I-beat-all-those-boys-in-the-mile-run-at-PE" is when I tried barefoot running.  I know, I know.  I'm a little crazy.  But you must realize, I was one of those kids who would stand on top of the slide because I wanted the wind blow my hair like it did Pocahontas'.  I wanted to live in a teepee in the mountains somewhere.  I used to mix my food because some girl (who was even weirder than I, no doubt) told me it would make me talk to animals better.  Don't worry, I've grown up a little and gotten past all that, but barefoot running seemed to take me back just a little.  I feel free, strong, and energetic.  Not to mention my posture is better while running barefoot, something Mark quite enjoys.

Of course I must point out that my calves were on fire the first couple runs, and it is also important to check fields for clovers and bee nests ... the results of a fiasco like that will keep you on paved roads for quite some time afterward.

However, I still love it.  One day I will do it again.
 
But now what?  I don't have a gym membership any more, so classes, swimming, and elipticals are out.  No movement at all makes me a grumpy, tired momma.  Walking up hills?  That's about the best I've been able to come up with; especially as Mac really appreciates the park at the top.  It's something.

Two more months.