Today I ran. For 10 minutes. And I wanted to die. It wasn’t actually that my legs couldn’t handle it. No, they were going along at a pace of 12:30 and then 12:45 and I didn’t actually want to slow down. My lungs, however, reacted so vehemently to the movement that I felt as if I had smoked three packs of cigarettes while holding my breath under water. Tricky, right? It didn’t feel good. And now I’m all bummed and disappointed because I am a bum. I’ll get back on it tomorrow. By now, everyone knows that running is not… I’m not done yet.