My Holiday Post Distress continues! And that's distress about holiday-themed blog posts, not post-holiday distress (or postal distress, or distress about a post), which is another thing entirely. This time, I've decided there's nothing to be done but dive in and admit, right here on the internet, that not only have I made New Year's resolutions, but I have made the most cliched New Year's resolutions possible for a female of my age group and demographic.
What, you don't believe me?
I'm taking up running. I, who make it a point to never run unless I am chasing one of my children, now own two pairs of running shoes, running tights, and funky-colored sports bras all in the interest of a sport I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to commit to. Understand that I'm dreaming loftily of being able to run a mile without dying.
If we're being really honest, readers, I'm hoping it will prove a viable alternative to my doctor putting me on crazy pills, but that's a topic for another post. In, like, ten years when this has all blown over. And I did say 'resolutions,' right? There's one more!
After thirty-six years of avoiding the inevitable, the inevitable has caught up with me, and I'm sort of taking a break from eating meat. Sort of. Except for fish sometimes, and the elk in my freezer, who at this point I would be doing no favors by not eating.
