In every aspect of my life, I’ve set goals. Own my car outright. Get certified to teach yoga. See all the US National Parks. Work for nonprofit sustainability. The list goes on and on at least 60 more goals. Some of the physical fitness goals are aimed at vanity (I want to see my abs for the first time by my birthday this year.) Others are more about accomplishing something that I find particularly difficult. Like running.
I used to run. I’m proud to say that my freshman 15 was actually a loss rather than a gain. After about my junior year in college, though, I stopped running regularly. Regardless of the distance (admittedly, it was never more than 8 miles,) I never got that runner’s high people rave about. It always just felt like work.
Recently, in reviewing my goals, I’ve noticed that I indicated the desire to race in a 10K and a half marathon. Thus, I’m jogging again (notice that I didn’t say running- I’m a bit of a penguin). I’m only going about 4-5 miles right now and I’m pretty pokey, but at least I’m out there.
Surprisingly, this time around it’s kinda fun. Starting June 1st, my goal is to log 50 miles for 30 days (I was just trying to get out there for May). Not a big deal, I realize, but I don’t want to set myself up for failure. In any case, it’s been a completely different experience getting outside and noting my progress than it was a couple years ago. Who knows- maybe I’ll be aiming for 75 miles in July, then 100 miles (let’s not get carried away). Before you know it, I’ll be racing (on a vain note, my abs aren’t looking too shabby 
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