The treadmill and I are on-again/off-again. It's a love hate relationship. (Mostly I hate the treadmill and it loves me.) I would certainly not call myself a runner, even when I've been running a lot. It's not one of my talents, and it isn't something I particularly enjoy. Mainly the only reason I jog is to feel healthy or to check an item off my to-do list. Exercise. Check.
Like every other person in the world, getting in shape was my new year's resolution. 2011 was a fairly good exercise year for me until school started again in September and neuro killed my hopes and dreams. I was running seven kilometres over the summer and hadn't tried to increase distance after that. Seven km seemed pretty fair... It was further than I had ever ran before (at least I think so).
This week I pulled on my new Nike Shox (love!) and ran five km on the treadmill! That was quite a feat for someone who has hardly ran since August, I must say. Hopefully this is the beginning of staying on the wagon. Would someone just chain me to the wagon already so I can't possibly fall off???
And as Paul said in 1 Corinthians 9:24, "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."
As a side note - as I trudged unwillingly off to the gym, someone else at my house was eating this. (And yes, that is two cups of ice cream in a measuring cup. We were out of bowls.) The sad thing is, that person can still run more than I can and never seems to put on any weight.