I Hate Running

This morning, per the directive from the little angel that sits on my shoulder, I started a running program. Running may be too strong of a word. I walked 2 miles, occasionally jogging when i caught my breath, walking again when i lost it. Here are the reasons why I hate to run:

1. Lungs burn from underuse.
2. Legs are sore the rest of the day.
3. Right thigh cramps up on the drive to work because the piece of sh!t Kia Sportage I drive was designed by 4'2" Koreans and subsequently I cannot extend my driving leg all the way out, even with the seat pushed all the way back.
4. Coughing up phlegm all day long.

Here are the reasons I will continue to run every morning:

1. Ass is fat.
2. Belly is fat.
3. Double chin.
4. Man-tits are huge.
5. Skin flaps hang from biceps like a 90-year-old woman's.
6. Stationary bike pedal broke.
7. Cool iPod arm band (a little too snug on the last notch, need to find some way to extend it).
8. Not getting shin splints (although that may be because I didn't actually run long enough to experience them).

So the reasons for outweigh the reasons against by a margin of 2-1. I can deal with the breathing problems until either my rapidly aging body gets used to it or I die of pneumonia.

Oh, and I stepped on the scale after my run and discovered that I am now down to 265. That's a total of 40 pounds lost. I don't attribute it to the run, I'm sure it was the same when I woke up, but I'm glad I checked after I got back and not before, because I probably wouldn't have gone out if I knew.

I realized as I was gasping for air that the last time I actually went for a run was when I was in crew in college. That ended in December of 1993. So this morning, I literally did something that I haven't done in over a dozen years.

What were you doing in December, 1993? Drop me a line and let me know. This should be fun.