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2004-04-07 - 3:04 p.m.

I'm headed off to the gym after work tonight to log in some more miles on the treadmill. I'm a bit intimidated--I haven't been to the gym in a week and I'm concerned that I've lost any incremental progress I might have earlier made. I'm definitely feeling the pressure to get into shape for this running program. This morning I ran around the house in an ultimately fruitless seach for my brand-new running shorts. This takes some of the excitment off going to the gym.

My problem is that I don't actually want to run. I want to want to run, which is a different thing entirely. I'm trusting that eventually this will translate into actualy enjoyment of the running, instead of the dull montonous "Can I stop now? Can I stop now? Can I stop now?" litany which currently is on a loop in my brain when I'm doing actual running. I have this blind faith that eventually it will be fun! but I'm not at all certain that I shan't come to be horribly disillusioned at some point during this summer. Right now my main motivations for this is vanity, which I don't think acts as a very strong motivator somewhere in the fifth mile (or in my case, the fifth minute).

My other motivation comes from reading other people's labor stories. I'm not planning on popping out a kid anytime in the next couple years, but maybe in the next four years. Labor has me scared, and I can't help but think that if I'm in good shape and am used to PAIN! that it will go easier for me. Surely a body that can run six miles without batting an eyelash can stand up to six hours of prolonged pushing better than a body that can't run six minutes. When I'm in labor, I want to be one of those bad-ass women who refuse epidurals and instead experience the pain. I want to be annoying and smug and earthy and all-natural.

Last week I bought a couple books off iTunes--Al Franken's Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them and David Sedaris's new comedy album. The David Sedaris one is hysterical and I think you all should get a copy. I love his tale of Santa and the 6-8 Black Men, as well as his theory on how NPR is a Conspiracy of Jews ("call there on Yom Kippur and the only one left in the building is poor Bob Edwards, and he considered converting until he found out what circumscision was.") Only now, of course, poor Bob Edwards will NOT be in the building. NPR rat bastards!.


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