So...two weeks ago I came home from five weeks in Thailand where my trainers sat glumly in the bottom of my rucksack and i: partied on a beach, partied on a boat, did anything but run. I followed this by spending a week in London catching up with friends and drinking copious amounts of everything and was subsequently really happy when my skinny jeans fit well. Like really well. And I had a minor victory.
Until today.
In preparation for five weeks from now, I strapped on said shoes and went for a spin around the block. 3.7 wheezing uphill kilometers (2.3 miles) later I stooped over my front door wheezing. And then my legs began to twitch and seize up, which is when I realised that my skinny jeans fit because i've lost nearly all the lovely marathon runner muscle mass in my legs.
but hey, i'm part of a team and we've got a purpose. so my motto for tomorrow is...5 kilometers, 5 kilometers, 5 kilometers. And on sunday, for my last trick...i will attempt 6 miles.
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