I’ve been doing the fitness thing with a surprising amount of consistency and gusto. Today was a little nuts as I exercised not once but twice with a run in the morning and Bar Method in the evening. This morning, Alice and I ran our Fastest Mile Ever. You see, neither of us had a watch on us, but the mile we ran just seemed really fast. When we crossed the finishing mark, we both said, hey, that was our Fastest Mile Ever. And therefore it was. We’re still nowhere near where we planned to be in terms of nonstop distance, but I think it’s because I set unrealistic goals. Week 1: 1 mile. Week 2: 2 miles. Week 3: 3 miles. Week 4:4 miles. Week 5: 5 miles. Week 6: 6 miles. Then MUD RUN!  Sounds like a good schedule, right?  Unfortunately, our legs don’t seem to agree.

The Bar Method is — what can I say? Painfully awesome, awesomely painful — I dunno. Though I really feel like it’s working. The teachers say things like, “If you feel like you’re dying, you’re probably doing it right.” It’s utter torture, but the moment I’m done, I’m like, when can I come back?

I’m not sure if I’ve ever taken exercise this seriously. I’ve always “wanted” to be fit, but I don’t think I ever wanted it. I’d say to myself, you know what? I’m still thin. Then later I’d say, I’m still in the thin range. Then later I’d say, I’m still normal. Then later I’d say, I’m still not fat. Then later I’d say, I’m still smart and have good hair.

So I don’t know what did it. But something inside my brain clicked and suddenly, I wanted it. And when I want something, I obviously know what to do.