Not me. Just in case there was confusion.
Sometimes the things I do just do not make any sense.
Today, I began running. Or some form of it.
I'm just going to tell you that it is ugly and undisciplined and sad.
I am not really sure of the true reason I'm running.
It may be my desire to wear shorts next summer without all the superfluous motion that goes on after I stop moving.
It may be because I really love food. And I'd like to keep eating it.
It may be because when I run, no one asks me for anything. Most the time I am alone. Novel concept, I know.
It may be because the groovy music on my iPod shuffle tell me there "Ain't nothin' wrong with that" or that I'm "runnin' down a dream." (Have I significantly made the impression of how out of touch I am with modern music?)
I don't know. I do not measure my distance in miles yet or even fractions of miles. Instead, I measure it in the amount of minutes I can go without heaving up my lungs or falling down.
It is much more pre-K then 10K, but for now it will have to do.
So you don't have to look for me. You will hear me panting long before you see me.