I think we all know how this ends.
Let's begin with day one. I managed to convince myself to put on my running clothes right when I got home from work. This is key. If I put on my running clothes before thinking through the act of running then I can shame myself into actually going because it feels like complete and utter failure to change out of exercise clothes without actually exercising. So, I tied my Asics, put my running mix on shuffle, and headed up the hill. As my feet pounded the concrete to Christina Aguilera's "Come on Over," I tried every mental trick I know to make myself believe I was having fun. I tried to think about long-term goals. I tried to tell myself that this could be fun if I did it more often. I tried to think about breathing deeply. And then I tried to think about absolutely nothing. The 2.2-mile route seemed completely endless. And all the reasons that the 457 other times that I've decided to "become a runner" haven't panned out came rushing back to me. I just barely finished the run.
Days two to present: Take a wild guess.
But I've hardly had time for running anyway because I have been devoting some really quality time to watching Dawson's Creek (90's teen dramas!), and feeding an odd obsession with Disney animated musical numbers. Like this:
See, she used her brains to conquer physical tasks and then became a master of everything because of it (obviously)! She would've killed becoming a runner.