I feel the earth move under my feet

This is not an ode to Aretha Franklin or Patti Labelle or whoever it was that sang that song. No, this is a rant about none other than me. Or my uninspiring physique these days. A week and a half ago, a friend of mine and I went and saw "The Spirit of the Marathon." What an amazing film. It documents the lives of runners, ranging from the casual runner next door to olympic and elite-level marathoners, as they train for, participate in, and complete the Chicago marathon. Truly a remarkable and awe-inspiring movie. As I left the show that night, I made the comment if that doesn't inspire me to get moving and try my hand at the 26.2 mile event, nothing will. I am one of those casual runners. I've participated in a half marathon once and have always said I want to try it again, the half, if not the full. Last December, I participated in the local marathon relay event. 5 miles, no problem, but we were intermingled with the real marathoners. I covered miles 10-15 with them. It's just amazing to be out there with them, watching the human spirit conquer any array of physical ailments. I love that runner's high I get after participating in any event or cruising along on the treadmill, so then why the rant? My running shoes have been collecting dust since that relay. Keep in mind, it's now the beginning of March. I can feel the muscle in my legs turning to mush and can see the layer of gush is what I like to call it forming on my stomach and thighs. I hate this feeling. Now, I know there are plenty of people out there that would look at me and think what does she have to complain about. I'm a size 4, and on occasion have been known to squeeze into a size 2. Yes, call me a skinny bitch, but I will part with this one thought... perspective does strange things.