books and more books on running (both gifts from my sole sisters, thank you!), getting dressed in running gear, and even stepping outside my door in said gear. But I had yet to take one step on the pavement. Each day, I would run through some version of the same script in my head: "I just need to find a partner/buy new shoes/watch the weather report/build an awesome play list for my iPod/hydrate properly/make a smoothie/find the time." And, like watching James Cameron's Titanic, I already knew how the story would end. Each day since my first blog post, I have allowed my decades-old fear of failure stop me from taking the first step. Literally. What if I...am too fat, too slow, fall down, make a fool of myself when I can't keep running and I've started this blog about that very thing on the world wide web with seven followers?
Fortunately, my sole sister could feel this paralyzing fear from 2,000 miles away. How does she know this? The same way she knew that dating that car salesman back home would lead to nothing but embarrassment down the road when I needed to get my car repaired at the only Ford dealership in town. She just does. Case in point: This morning I was enjoying a perfect Sunday. A chilly 4 degrees outside, and no plans but to refill my coffee cup. And then the phone rang. It was sole sister calling, telling me to read my E-mail:
Hey Sole Sisters!
I'm not going to be the only one with blog fodder for My Sole Sisters. Therefore, you have an assignment. It will take less than twenty minutes from start to finish, including getting dressed. I can guarantee that. Get some comfy clothes on, lace up your sneaks, and run one mile. Today. Then blog about it. Run by noon your time and it'll be done for the day.
Looking forward to seeing how just 20 minutes can change your day!
Gulp. And then:
Me: "But I'm scared!"
Sole Sister: "I know! That's why I'm giving you an assignment."
Me: "But, It's already 10:45 and your assignment has to be finished by noon!"
Sole Sister: "So put down your coffee, drink a glass of water, and get dressed."
I looked around, coffee cup in hand, trying to place the hidden camera that her "people" must have installed last week to track my inertia.
And then, something happened. I hung up the phone, looked over at baby A. and said, in between guzzles of water, "Mommy's going for a run!" I went to the bedroom, dug way in the back of my dresser and found my sports bra, laced up my shoes and headed out the door for my one mile run that Sole Sister had mapped for me from her headquarters via google maps. This short route took me past the Dairy Queen (her evil knows no bounds), around the neighborhood, and back home in less than 20 minutes, as promised.
And I took my new running partner aka, my husband, with me: