my right leg may or may not be falling off. i’m afraid to look.  somebody check and let me know.
it’s been a while since i investigated, but i always took it for granted that i had kneecaps.  right now, i’m not so sure.  if my leg doesn’t fall off, and if neither of them catches fire, since that also seems imminently possible, then i will conduct an inquiry into the existence or nonexistence of my kneecaps. it seems like something i should know.
i have just completed day 2 of marathon training, which was also my second day ever of running with purpose.  i’ve tried this before, but in a less structured sort of way.  i ran as slowly, and for as short a time as i thought would be sufficient, which is to say, almost not at all.
this is not like that.  this is continuing to run, even when it seems like my lungs are filling with glue, when parts of me are flopping in embarrassing ways beyond my control, when i have to bargain with my legs to continue moving.  i really hope it gets easier than this.
march 13, 2010 is staring at me.  it is my 30th birthday, and i always said it didn’t mean anything more significant than any other birthday, but i guess i didn’t mean it.
30 is a scary number.
too many people have been telling me that a woman’s body goes downhill after 30, but if i’m really honest with myself, my body hasn’t exactly been going uphill in the past few years.  it has barely plateaued somewhere pleasant.  when i was in my early 20′s, i could take a few months off of sugar and refined carbohydrates and drop 30 pounds in a summer, but those days are long past.
i’m not happy with the way i look or feel, and i know the only way to change it is to commit to making an intense effort.  i think marathon training is an intense effort.  my kneecaps, or the possible lack thereof, say that it is an intense effort.
i know i will always be pretty much kally-shaped.  nothing will make my shoulders narrower, and i will always have big hips and big boobs, but i’m ok with that.  i can be very hourglassy, and i appreciate that about my body.  i think that is an attractive shape for me.  there just isn’t enough definition between curves, at the moment.  some of my curves are indistinguishable from my lumps.
i would prefer fewer lumps, in general.
so, i run.  i was expecting a stitch in my side because i have gotten one every time i have run for more than a quarter mile since i was 7.  i was unprepared for how many other places i can develop a stitch.
i’m learning the nuances of the treadmill.  it’s a strange and delicate courtship, and at the moment, i’m not sure who has the upper hand.  when the days get longer, i’m thinking about giving up the tiny television attached to the treadmill that has been distracting me from the burning in my chest, and taking on the open road.  i’m not sure yet if that’s a viable option.  i’m not sure that my feet won’t be worn down to bloody stumps by then.
i will accept any advice anyone is willing to give me.