[On mollusks, tauntauns, and running a mile.]

Yeah. You see that sexy hip pop? Confidence embodied, people. This is right before I took off on my run last night. I put together a workout "outfit," you see, that I wanted to document. "You mean those purple spandex leggings were a choice??" Yes, yes they were. An excellent choice. As was the visible bright blue sports bra, which flattens me to the shape of an 11 year old boy. I specifically planned to run one mile. No more, no less, even though I am perfectly capable of running at least 1.2 miles, if not 1.3. I'm taking baby steps here. Next run maybe I'll add another block or two.

This celebratory pic was taken seconds after finishing my grueling, one mile run, during which I lightly jogged approximately ten steps before I began to wail, which most closely resembled the sounds made by a dying tauntaun (if you know what that is I shall kiss you), and didn't stop until Melissa, my roomie/running partner, managed to distract me by asking about the breakup (plenty to say about that topic, of course). I like having a running buddy. Gives me an excuse to wail "I haaaaaaaate this...I'm dyyyyyinnngg..." over and over again at the top of my lungs instead of grumping internally. I am a delight.

Also, when I say this was taken seconds after my run, I actually mean like 15 minutes, as I spent a significant amount of time walking around in circles in my front yard with my hands above my head, attempting to neither throw up nor black out, and wondering which roomie would discover me sprawled out on the lawn first. Also, stretching, because who wants running man muscles? Gross.


And this is what I actually felt like and continue to feel like today. Note the vacant stare, the sweaty tendrils of hair, the loss of all joy for life a la a Hogwarts student post dementor interaction... It's been so long since I led an active lifestyle that I have the aerobic and muscular capacity of a mollusk, and I. am. FEELING. it. My leg muscles are convinced that we sprinted a marathon last night, and my back muscles are a tad miffed that we apparently lifted 3,000 tons all day long yesterday. Anyway, basically I'm just dying, and I wanted to tell you all about it. I have to continue this exercise thing for a while, since I plan to be in a contant state of eating between the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and the day after New Year's, so I hope you don't mind if these exercising posts become a thing. Plus I am 1000% positive my dad will drag me over to the UCLA track while I'm home next week to go running with him (how physical torture became a favorite family activity the world will never know), so I want to be prepared to do more than walk a lap while my dad literally runs circles around me. And be excited about it, because I promise more gloriously sexy photos like the ones above. So you have something to look forward to as well. Win win.