Why is it that I feel a million times more self-conscious running out on a trail in the bush by the river, with no one but the trees and local fauna around, than when my jiggly ‘tocks are running to nowhere on a treadmill at the gym on front of a whole bunch of people who look way better in spandex than I ever will? (Not that I wear spandex, but you know what I mean.)

Also? Trails kick your ass, what with the up and the down and the gravel and such. Nothing like running on a treadmill, even on “mountain climbing” type settings. I knew that already, given that riding a bike on trails kicks your ass, but still. I feel heavy and slow, and I know I AM heavy and slow, but I don’t like to be reminded of it. (Hence the running…)

There was one point, though, where I didn’t feel like me for a bit. It was like the shell dropped off and I was light and fast and could join the Lululemon brigade any time I wanted. (Oh, wait, they don’t sweat… never mind…) That part, and how amazing the wildflowers smelled, and the wind in my hair felt, didn’t suck. 🙂

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