Lounge, Couch Potato, Lounge

We just finished the movie Run, Fat Boy, Run.  It is a movie about an unmotivated, out of shape man who decides to run a marathon in an effort to impress his ex-fiancé who he left at the altar while she was pregnant.  He decides to do this when the marathon is about three weeks away, having never really exercised more than it takes to walk to the fridge or light a cigarette.  

Not wanting to give away the movie, I won't tell you how it ends, but I will tell you that many times throughout the movie I found myself thinking the same thing: I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to run in, train for, or consider running in or training for a marathon, half-marathon, or any other race.  

I have several friends and acquaintances who have aspirations to or have in fact completed a marathon.  In some cases, they've run more than one marathon.  Very impressive.  I'm proud of them.  Still, not interested in joining at all.  A marathon is a really long race.  I'm sure when asked about lifelong goals and such all those friends responded humbly, "Well, I've always wanted to run a marathon.  It is just something I want to do."  And then they do it!  That is great and all, I just don't have that kind of goal.  

Thinking about running makes me tired and achy.  It is the only activity that will give me an asthma attack in about 5 minutes.  I gasp for air, things jiggle, my feet pound on the pavement much like a clydesdale.  Not pretty.  You can throw me in a pool and I can go for hours.  But running requires grace and agility and that just isn't something that I have while on dry land.  

So my hat's off to you, dear runners!   Or shall I say, my running shoes!  Keep it up!  You look great!  Especially from this comfy spot over here on the couch.