Walking out the front door is the hard part

The weather has been pretty nice, and I'm seeing more runners than ever outside. It looks…fun. (What's that? Nostalgia for running? Is this because deep down I want to run 100 miles? That's so weird.) But twice this week I've decided to go for a short run and then not actually done it. I'm not sure exactly what the hesitation is.

Well, okay. Part of it is my new-found conviction that too much exercise is not at all beneficial, and I've been reading about how "chronic cardio" is actually bad for you. And I'm already really happy with my yoga classes, swim posse, and occasional weight-lifting session. On the other hand, the kind of running I always enjoyed most was the long, slow kind, and I know from my heart-rate-monitor-wearing days that I can do that well below the cardio range—maybe even more easily now that I weigh 30 pounds less. Plus, I used to like running, and surely the fun factor counts for something.

Okay. I've talked myself into it. The goal for this week is to walk out the front door in running clothes and see what happens.

The runner on her photo shoot.