About 4 years ago, a good friend and I sat down to lunch. I lifted a french fry and chewed it thoughtfully. "I'm gaining weight... I need to consider a diet and exercise program." My friend nodded. Hey, this is as typical a conversation as any pair of women might have on any given lunch date. Nothing new here. Until... Shortycakes chews faster and I see her eyes go wide. "I'm going to run a marathon. You should do it too." There must have been crack cocaine in those french fries cause my eyes widened and I said, "I would totally do that." Mmm hmmm... I would also run through the streets of Morocco totally naked. Oddly enough, I did it... ok, not the full 26.2 mile marathon (and not the naked Moroccan sprinting), but, I started the program and was really enjoying it -- I mean, my lungs didn't implode, my heart didn't turn to dust and I managed to lose a little weight... not bad. Unfortunately, I only made it about 2 months before I crapped out with a knee injury. It took a long time to get over that -- mentally. The knee healed up after about a month. But I was really dejected about giving up on something that had only just begun. I just could not get myself out on the road after that. Not even the memory of endorphins racing through my veins turning me into a little firecracker of energy. It took a couple of years, but, last November I ran my first half marathon, and despite finishing with a shoe full of blood, it was fabulous. So, I'm doing it again. The half program, that is... I don't really like to even get into my car and drive 26.2 miles let alone run that. Today I'm running 2 and a half miles, but, in 6 short months that will grow to just over 13 miles and it will be another small victory for someone who couldn't win a tic-tac-toe game against herself.