We have entered the final countdown to Moving Day! Five days until I load my remaining belongings into my car and drive 500 miles to the shipping port where my car will go via boat to England and I will hop on a plane- beating the car to the UK by a full month. This past week has be shrouded in sad going-away parties and breakfast with the girls (FULL DISCLOSURE: I ate a shamelessly delicious stack of pancakes and some Canadian bacon). I managed another pool visit to swim some laps and even out my embarrassingly tan lines, but no other workouts to note.
Today, in the middle of an enormous thunder storm, the exercise bug bit….hard. In five minutes I was suiting up: running clothes, my woefully neglected sneakers (hello, old friends!), and a raincoat. I hastily grabbed a bottle of water and dashed out the door. A little gift from Above, the rain stopped as I walked outside. I made it to the gym and hopped on a treadmill. I planned for half an hour, but I didn’t want to stop. I ran until my hamstrings got too tight, then I’d speed walk until the pain subsided enough to run again…and again.
1 mile….2 miles…3 miles (“Ok, self, you can stop now; that’s a 5k…..But I don’t want to!”)…4 miles….(“heck, why not?”) 5 miles!
I have never gone so far on a treadmill. 83 minutes. 5 miles. Not a wonderful ratio but I did fluctuate in pace a lot. But the moral of this story is I’m back!!! I was running and freakin’ loving it!!
When I was a little girl, my daddy always called me “bug”, a nickname that has somehow lasted, even though I’m grown. If I called him right now, the call would look like this:
Me: Hey daddy!
Him: Buuug! How’s my Bug doing today?
As I grew and my interest changed, the nickname was modified to fit my current activity (example: Doodle Bug), and when I got married he added my new last name (example: Buggy “Jones”). Hopefully, this newly rediscovered fitness fervor will earn the right to amend the nickname: Workout Bug. Eh? Well, maybe not, but I do hope to continue with working out and loving it. :)