To Run or Not to Run

These are my running shoes. I got them for my birthday last year, and as you can see, the white part is still awfully white. The only reason and excuse I have for this whiteness is that they are never used enough. This might be because they suck. I have a scar on the arch of my foot from a blister. Who was the culprit? These gray, pink, and still showing white things. But it also might be because I don't go running. Ever. I'm going with the latter. The past four days I've been enjoying the Utah Shakespeare Festival. (to be said in a highly dramatized voice of one of the members of the Greenshow cast. You don't know what that is or how that sounds? Maybe it's time for you to take a trip the the Shakespeare festival. . . ) This is where I ate food that practically had one ingredient: fat. And honestly, I feel like the most unhealthy person ever. So, last night, I was laying in my bed planning out my running route; getting super, duper excited. Then I fell asleep. Sleep always ruins running excitement.

 ~See, a little insight on how I work. My mind loves to run. . . once it's running. But my body never has and never will~

So, I woke up. Every ounce of excitement gone out of my head into who knows where. And I tried and tried to get my mind focused and ready for the run. And then, when I was somewhat excited, my stomach got an achy, churning feeling in it, my legs glued themselves to where I was standing, and the ability to go running evaporated. Lovely, right? NO!

So, I didn't go running this morning. My conscience will most definitely me eating away at me all day long. I guess this is why they invented P90X, but that's a whole different motivational story.