I quit, about 9 years ago last month. Yeah. I started again about 8 months ago. Don't ask me to do all the math, I don't care that much.
Anyway, know how yesterday I said I was going to go running? I decided a bit later, that I'd do a mile. One mile. One simple, easy, fabulous, did I mention easy? mile. And it sucked. I mean, it really sucked. My lungs hurt, my stomach hurt, my legs hurt, my head hurt. I used to do this? Seriously? I stopped at 1.03 miles. In almost 12 minutes. I was distraught, all through my coughing spell when I stopped.
So, I decided, of course, to quit smoking, right? It's been since 9:30 this morning since I had one. That's, like, 8 whole hours and 16 minutes ago! I've already eaten everything in sight. And watched enough Bates Motel and Dexter to give me ideas I wouldn't normally consider. That is, until quitting smoking.
I went to Olive Garden for lunch, and ate Raspberry White Chocolate Cheesecake. I don't eat these things, normally. They bring guilt, and pounds, and a bigger ass. (I'm not saying here 'don't eat cake', remember, I just quit smoking and I'm hostile. And if I can't have cake, you can't have cake!)
But I did have cake. See?
|And it was beautiful.|
In other news, remember the Runner's Savings Account? That year's over. Where has the time gone? $569.25 was the grand total. I'm continuing it another year through 3/13/15.
And I guess I need to go run this evening, again.
Here's to sucking less than last time?