There’s something that happens
Heather | I loved to run when I was a kid. Loved to run fast but not far. For most of my adult life I’ve been psyching myself out of running altogether with a lot of great excuses. Really – I have plantar fasciitis, practically no cartilage in one knee, etc. etc. But in the fall of 2008, I signed up for a “Seal Team” fitness class for a couple of months and realized that, although I was slow, I could eventually work my way up to a few miles without passing out or limping. We ran on dark trails on winter mornings. It was a challenge and it felt good. I became a fan of Under Armour.
Then a slew of medical issues hit me and I was out of the running again. Tack on meds, a crappy diet, stress, not taking time to work out and moving into my mid 40s and pretty quickly I vowed never to expose my legs in public. Ever. Again.
I’m ready though to take back my body and lose the long pants. My sisters and I have set a goal of running – in Italy! Fueled by pasta and Prosecco, I know we can do it.
Cathlin | I’m a runner. Ok, well, I used to be runner. That however was when I was much younger (used to run with a walkman – that should tell you how many years ago it has been). And it was when I lived on the beach in Orange County where the sun always shone and I had nothing but time. Then…..I had twins. Moved to London. Turned 40. Years later, I still have my selection of running shorts and sports bras in my bottom drawer. They have survived many purges to Goodwill because I really have been planning to run again.
And now I have the motivation to do so – running with my sisters in Italy! Which I hope is nothing like the running of the bulls in Spain.
My biggest problem however is my legs. Pasty-white (for God’s sake I live in London). Cellulite. Spider-Veins. Would this also require shaving?
Colleen | I want to ride a scooter through the streets of Rome. In a skirt and heels with big sunglasses. And a scarf. I always run in pants. In Italy, I think I will run in a skirt. Without the scarf. With the sunglasses. Are we shooting for half-marathon? Good grief. 14 months. Help.