After last night's trip to The Scariest Mal*Wart in America, I am the dazed and proud owner of a knee brace, a stop watch, and a water bottle. Now all I have to do to complete my Runners persona is to actually ... you know ... run.

Running has always been the golden apple for me. During the break in soccer season in high school I blythely signed up for cross-country. My athletic sister and I showed up at our high school one humid summer morning and were informed that we'd be taking a "slow run around town" to see if we were fit for the team. The coach no doubt sensed that I was a heart-attack waiting to happen, so he ran with me, and we set out over the hills and around town. I was so proud of myself when we finished - I hadn't walked at all, and I must have been so keyed up with adrenaline that I don't even think it hurt much - but that was the first and last time I felt that way. All season I came in last. In every race. My asthma kicked in about halfway through the first mile, and I wheezed my way through the rest of the meet. Thinking back on it, I was probably a hated member of the team. I'm sure my presence cut their time down. Still, I finished every race but one. Always last, and always miles behind my sister and cousin, but it was something. And that's what I told myself when people smiled kindly at me and complimented my perserverance (translation: you suck, but how brave of you to continue to suck in public) but inside I seethed. I spent most of my adolescent years waiting for my real world to begin - the real world in which I'd transform into an athlete and a beautiful person and would be able to fly past the peons behind me. And dammit, this time I'm going to do it.

If anyone has any advice for weight/strength training workouts that can be done from home (ie: without joining a gym) I'd love to have them.

Last night's exercise: walked 4 miles in just over an hour. Did knee exercises and push-ups, sit-ups.