Only five miles to Hell. I know, I've been there.

It is no secret, I'm running a half marathon in April. If your wondering why, it is also the same reason I'd like to summit Everest or go to Easter Island or perfect the keg stand. Just because I want to... No particular reason, it sounds fun. On Friday night I received a copy of Her Sports and Fitness in the mail. I really like this magazine as it always has articles that pertain to want I'm currently doing. Magic? I think so.

On this month's cover is a man- bodied woman and the following banners:

Knock out abs! ( yes, please)

Organic, worth the splurge? ( you tell me!)

Then, shining from the page as if it were the chosen article itself :

Half Marathon Made Easy ( Sweet Jesus, I've hit the jackpot! )

Quickly, quickly I turn to page 54. It has a running plan that includes: run two minutes, walk one minute.

(I can do that! 21 week training program! I have just enough time!)

I can hardly contain my excitement!

(I'm really going to run a half marathon and look beautiful while doing it and everyone will be jealous!!! Moo- Haw haw!! Watch out veteran runners I have the easy plan complete with veteran and beginners column.)

Naturally I choose the beginners column. Week 1- run 5 miles.

(Five Miles. Easy.) My longest running venture to date was a 5 K last October.

Saturday

I gave up the smokes (day 53), and the booze because I can't have the smokes so I've turned my wretched addictive personality to coffee... How I love you coffee... Dunkin Donuts Coffee to be exact. With three cups of coffee in my belly and a handful of crackers I start dressing for my five mile trek to stardom.

Ipod. Check!
Knee Brace. Check!
Heart Monitor. Check!
Pedometer. Check!
Favorite running shoes. Check!
New ultra cool running hat (thanks Jules). Check!

I've got five pounds of crap on and I'm ready to go... It's 12:15 p.m. I'm tired of running around the bay so I start by running around the neighborhood. Two minutes run, one minute walk. (Easy is right!) I get tired of running around the neighborhood so I start running down Crown Point Drive towards Sea World. The side walk runs out at Sea World so I turned around and ran back to the Bay. (stopped for two minutes to look at stingray from atop the bridge, didn't now anything lived in the Bay)

Look at pedometer.

(1.5 miles? There is no f'in way! I hate two minutes run and one minute walk and I hate the last guy that ran by and stared at my boobs. I really hate you! I might turn around a try to catch you and tell you how much I hate you right now!)

I ran down to the Bay. The great part of running at the Bay is every 1/4 mile is spray painted so you know how far you've gone. Please, for god sake do not reply and ask why I just didn't do this in the first place. The reason is because I'm dumb. Why would I go for a five mile first time run on a stomach full of coffee? WHY? I start at the 3/4 mile marker.

One mile. Bahia Hotel 1.5 miles.

(I'm finding my pace! I love you two minutes run and one minute walk, I really love you!)

This is about the time it starts to get ugly. Don't let any children read the horror that is about to unfold: I'm running toward Mission Beach I'm at 1.75 miles per the marker. 3.25 total. I decide to make it to Santa Clara which is about 2 miles. Then turn around and head for home. Unfortunately my threshold for pain is gone, I'm thirsty, tired and all I can think is just don't quit. I start to cry. I have to stop. I get off the sidewalk and cry for my one minute walk break. Then I lay on a grassy patch and pretend to stretch whilst crying. Lucky for me I look as though I have been running for days so no one stops to check that I'm OK. Obviously, I know what I'm doing with all my gadgets. My next mood swings starts a little something like this:

(OK Stop crying and start running. You only have to run for two minutes. It's not that tough. Only 2 miles to home. Once the pedometer hits five miles, you can walk. Easy Street!)

I do a little less than half a mile before I can't run two minutes, I cut it to one minute run two minutes walk.

(Feel-in Good! 1.5 miles to go.)

It is at this very moment my entire world, which is very fragile at the moment, crashes. A girl I will only refer to as "gazelle" easily runs it by. She passed me once before but I was so delirious I didn't notice much about her. I start to cry again. I really want to shout "Whore" But I don't even know if I can make words right now. I use this anger to kick every piece of me that's giggling into high gear and I pass her all the while think. "Can't beat me. I might look like an animal right now, but I'm a hot little wifey. So you just take that."

I didn't see Gazelle after that, she must have gotten off of the track or maybe she was so upset by how bad I dusted her, she just decided to leave. I choose to think the later.

Heading home! Feeling like death. Blisters on the bottom and arches of my feet. Check pedometer.

4.1 miles

(Not possible!!) I walk the 300 feet home. A mere shell of myself before my run to stardom began. I Rambo kick in the door and start to take off my gear. Brandon peaks out from the kitchen.

" Do you know how long you've been gone? Two hours. How far did you run?"

"4.1 miles, but it can be right. I'm really hurting and there is no possible way it took me two hours to run four miles. I just might shoot myself."

Monday

Still angered over the 4.1 miles crisis and running for two hours, Brandon charts my course.

8.5 miles total. Thank you Weight Watchers for having a total piece of crap pedometer! In your face half marathon! In your face Gazelle!

My body has started to seize and this is now an entirely too long of an email. Just thought it was pretty funny and I'm very proud of myself!

I totally got to see a stingray!