|Reason #347 why treadmills blow...|
This does not come as a surprise. I could not look my physician in faux abject horror when the diagnosis was pronounced. I went in knowing that I'd gotten lazy and the wages of that laziness are amply on display. I've done this to myself. I got lazy and allowed old bad habits to creep back in. I won't even call myself a runner anymore in order to not shame that awesome group.
Now before we go any further, I do have one huge bone to pick with the BMI calculation gods. According to it, based on my data, I should currently be doing all my clothes shopping at Wahid's House of Big Boy Caftans. So I entered my measurements when I was at my peak running condition (28 pounds less than what I am now and running 20 plus miles a week) and I was still on the chubby side, per the BMI calc. For giggles, I entered my weight when I got married, and it turns out that number is what puts me in the optimal condition for the BMI. Um, at that weight, I looked like I had just checked out of a forced stay at the Hanoi Hilton, and with my shirt off, you could count every rib. No thank you.
Anyway, I know what I have to do. I miss running. So I'm starting back, just like I did nearly five years ago, when I said, 'No mas,' and I changed my diet and started running and kept at it for three years. I'm back on the
Why am I going public with this? Is it to feed, so to speak, my need to overshare? Nope. It's about making me accountable. It was either this or post a picture of myself sans a shirt to really get me motivated. You can thank me in whatever manner you think appropriate for not posting said terrifying image.
So keep me honest, people, keep me on track. Or on any of the myriad running trails around here.