Don't you hate it when the same week you are supposed to start something you feel to be life changing, you get sick? Swear, it's been attack of the allergies which turned into bronchitis. I still managed to make it to my first running clinic. And yes, I'm still terrified. We had to run only half a mile in order to get our times. I wheezed and huffed and puffed my way through it. I didn't finish last, but I sure as hell finished close to last.
Now here's the thing. I really don't care if I'm last. Obviously I don't WANT to be last, but at the same time, I wholeheartedly realize I'm not a runner. I'm more pissy about the people who are sitting there hemming and hawing about how they don't run, they are just beginners and yet they later admit they go running 2 miles a day for fun. Um, what?! In what world does that make you a beginner? I want to learn to run, but I'm not about to kill myself to keep up with those people.
