Getting My Feet Wet

So this is my first attempt at blogging.  I've been religiously following a growing number of blogs for the past few years and decided I'd try my luck with it.  I don't take myself too seriously, which will become increasingly obvious through the exploits I will post about on this little space.

Let me introduce the "runner" aspect of me first.  In 2013 I made a New Year's resolution to run one race a month for the year.  By the summer of that year, I had signed up for my first half marathon.  This was huge for me because I'd started off as the "I'll only run if someone is chasing me" and "I'll never run a half marathon" girl.  I had watched and cheered on numerous friends as they chased their running goals.  It was a tough first half; however, within a month I'd signed up for my second.  And now I guess I'm a runner.

I am currently training for my 6th half marathon and recently rolled into the gym after a full day of leadership training.  I headed to the bathroom to do my thing and change into the workout gear that I'd packed that morning.  A post on my insane amount of workout clothing will undoubtedly appear shortly.  Anyhow, after putting on my capris and two sports bras, I realized that I'd forgotten my tank top.  Knowing that I only had 6 .25 mile sets of speedwork to do, going home and getting my top was not an option.  That would have resulted in me arriving home and promptly crashing on the couch.

So I did what any dedicated, mildly secure runner would do.

I used my hair rubberband and tied up that dress into a shirt.  A fluffy, awkward looking shirt that only came untied once during my 20 minutes on the treadmill.  Then of course, I did what any self-respecting person would do and promptly called myself out on social media.  Just in case anyone happened to see this hot mess on the treadmill in her dress.

Did I mention that I don't take myself seriously?!