I think I became a "runner" today.....

I have had an extremely gluttonous weekend (is "gluttonous" a word?)....

In two days I have attended 2 parties and one cookout and have consumed close to 10,000 calories...so far as I can estimate....

I have had a heck of a time charting all of that into My Fitness Pal!

According to MFP...I am allowed 1550 calories a day...which adds up to 10850 for the week....which means, I shouldn't eat anything else until about...

Wednesday.

I can honestly say, I am sick of pizza, cake, hamburgers.....and.....dare I say it out loud....
Buffalo Chicken Dip.

What does this have to do with my becoming a runner?

Well, tonight, after stuffing my face full of junk food and wine
I went for a shuffle....

I shuffled for 3.1 miles...a 5k.....it took me 36 minutes....

A slow shuffle.....not a "run" by any of my previous definitions.....
So, what was it about these 3 miles that I would hold them to a whole new standard?  Why was I a "runner" tonight and not a "shuffler"?

Here's why......
I NEEDED to go out for a shuffle....

I didn't just want to....I needed to...like.... urgently...desperately..."I cant take it anymore".... "If I don't I will EXPLODE".....

It was an all-consuming urge to shuffle like I've never experienced before....like a drug addict desperate for his next fix....like a full bladder waking you in the middle of the night.....an urge that could not be ignored and just had to be satisfied.

The sun was just beginning to set when we arrived home from our cookout...I told my husband that I would just shuffle on our road...just enough to get a little sweat going...

But it was more than that.  I desperately wanted to purge....

I felt like I had been poisoning myself all weekend....and shuffling was my Syrup of Ipecac.

I quickly changed into my running clothes and donned my headlamp.....

 (Yes...I actually DID go out with that thing clipped to my headband....that should give you some idea of how desperate I was to get out....)

....and shuffled my butt off!

I honestly don't remember the feeling of the pavement beneath my feet, or the burning in my legs...what I  DO remember is the feeling of wine, cheeseburger, 2 brownies, and an unspeakable amount of cheese and caramel popcorn mixing violently in my stomach.....cramping in my bowels.....and dry-heaving on the side of the road at mile 2.

I didn't care....I forced myself to keep shuffling....to feel the discomfort of the abuse I'd inflicted upon myself...and to ensure that the toxins would flush from my body....one way or another...

By mile 3, it was almost dark so I decided I'd had enough...I was beyond nauseous and just wanted to stop the torture.  I chatted briefly with my neighbor then quickly excused myself, moved swiftly into the house, and vomited......

Never before have I vomited from a shuffle....
and never before has vomiting caused such a sense of "cleansing relief"...

I realized tonight that I need to run....I don't like how I feel without it....
I am trading in my sugar addiction for a running addiction....

Why else would I leave the house looking like a crazed ninja-surgeon, heave in the ditch, keep huffing down the street like a freight train, then come home to puke?

The mug of a lunatic

Only a "runner" would do that!!