Jesus Was A Runner.

And a damn good one, too.

I have to say that right now, more than anything, I'm digging the outside running.

The breeze, the sun, all of it comes together so nicely that I don't even feel my legs moving. I used to think the treadmill was a great way to zone out - now I'm convinced that outside is the way to go. (Did you happen to notice how girl runner's bouncy bits really bounce when they are running? It's an added perk, I'd say.)

Tonight I did just over 6K - I went slowly because I was tackling a monster hill right at the start, and I wanted to save my energy. I finished it in just over forty minutes, which also includes stopping to talk to the Sidekick. (See? When is the last time you ran into anybody on the treadmill? It just doesn't happen.) I had so much energy left at the end I almost chided myself for not going faster.

Bish was right - The me of a year ago would have scoffed at just going out for a run. "Outside? To run? Where? - I'll go if it's a donut shop." I'm impressed with the progress so far.

I figure if Jesus can walk with the cross on his back, I can run. I ain't got shit on mine.(and there's nothing tied to my ass, either.)




Later.