8 mile

"Ohhh everything burns!"  I exclaimed as I stepped in the shower.  Was the water too hot?  Nope.  Am I a wuss?  Not completely.   No friends, the burns were burns of stingy* triumph.  Badges of honor if you will.  Tangible evidence that I completed an 8 mile run today.  

I rather enjoyed distance running for a few years.  I found it to be a great way to shed some pounds, find time to listen to music, and probably most importantly to get a break from a completely hectic lifestyle.  Ok, I'll be honest, it was great to go run for a few hours and not have to sit in a house with my ex.  Ahem..

Fast forward a year and a half.  I entered a relationship at a high-school-esque 148 pounds.  Eliz makes me really happy.   So happy in fact that I stopped wanting to run and work out because we love spending time together.  We also love eating pizza together.  Which is good, because now she has more of me to love.  36 pounds more of me in fact.  24% more Mikey, who wouldn't love that?

I don't.  So I've been doing my best to disappoint my Wizzy and reduce her boyfriend by at least 10%.  

Running is a bitch.  At first anyhow.  My first 4 runs were huffly puffly death conjuring lung burners.  I wanted to quit with every step.  Then last week I decided to bump up to 6 miles.  And I did it.  I don't know quite what it was, but something clicked, and when I finished, I felt good.  I felt like I could do anything.  

So today I ran 8 miles.  And I'm chaffed in places I forgot I owned. 

*Stingy, as in like a bee, not like Scrooge