When I was in primary school I was always the last one chosen for anything involving running. Being short and chunky and kinda looking like I would do a better job as an elephants foot didn't help. It seems strange that now, at age 39 and much much heavier, that I get this sudden urge to run. Not run away, just run.
I have taken to running around the back yard for the last couple of nights. Ok let me rephrase that, it is running for me, to the average person it is probably a fast walk. In fact my dog barely gets to trotting speed as she "runs" beside me. At least it gets me moving, puffing and sweating. I can't do it continuously so I run a lap and then walk and so on. I do it for about 20 minutes with short breaks to do some weights and give my legs a rest.
So what does my body think about this? My mind imagines my feet would moving my body like it was as light as a feather. Instead they move it like they are chained to gravity and it is too stubborn to let go. My lungs complain bitterly and can't believe that I would do such a thing. They are joined by my lower back muscles, which, if personified, would be dole bludgers that never get off the couch. Yet strangely enough, I am enjoying it. Who would have thought!
Just a quick catch up with the Blythe doll customisation: eyelids are painted and new eyelashes are in; face make up is coming along nicely (or as nice as you can get if it's not airbrushed on); and the scalp is finally dry so I can start stitching the hair on this weekend. If I get a little too freaked about cutting the hair, I might finally introduce myself to my neighbour, she is a hair dresser. Hmmm I could with a haircut myself. Photos soon.
Oh its Friday tomorrow!! :)