The first time I was invited to run I thought, "Sure, why not." I had never run before-- well, not since I was in elementary school I'm sure. I chased after my son when he was two, but I doubt that constituted as running. I think I jogged to the mailbox a time or two to beat the rain, but again, that probably didn't categorize as a run.

I remember that first run. I remember my thoughts too. They were something like:

 

Who does this...on purpose...by choice?!

Oh my gosh,  this sucks.

What in the world am I doing?

Are we almost done?

I think I'm dying...I can't breath...can we stop?!

 

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