I did it. I feel like shouting from the rooftops. When I got it done, I had this urge (which, fortunately for my dignity, I did not act upon) to raise both fists in the air in that sort of triumphant pumping motion one might see as a person finishes a marathon or wins a grand race. All this over having accomplished something that, to some, might seem ah... little:
I ran for 10 whole minutes today - two minutes at a time.
You'd have to know me, know my life, to know what an amazing achievement this is. I was once of the sullen angry smoking teenage species who muttered bitterly from under a fringe of dyed black bangs: "exercise is for losers." Seriously. I dreaded gym class. I would literally cry every year when I had (to attempt pitifully) to run for that damn presidential fitness crap, or whatever the hell it was called. I was a fitness misfit. It was part of my identity. I simultaneously ridiculed and envied those clean, ruddy faced, seemingly normal folks who co...