In my head running is this beautiful thing, it amps up my mood, gives me madonna legs, I look like a bad ass, and when the zombie apocalypse happens I shall survive longer.
Reality of running: Its cold (you live in michigan silly girl), My hair looks awful, Things jiggle (nothing madonna about it), I usually only make it half way down the road before I realize what a bad idea it was, My boobs hurt *whines and holds boobs*, If I had to do this the whole zombie apocalypse I think id like to join the other side, they're more my pace, those pesky death like side cramps that kill your motivation, and finally IT'S COLD!!
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