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?!