Well, first off...a bit about me. I'm homeschooled (not nearly as isolating as one might think--ever heard of a laptop and a cafe?), and I live with my (very British, very eccentric) mother in an apartment in London proper (postcode E46EL, for the Mindsay team, if they ever decide to let us poor foreigners enter our location on the map). I'm not a British native. I'm actually from the Seattle area. I lived in and around Seattle for my first 15 and a half years, so I'm actually very American with some British undertones, as Mum put it (yes, I call her Mum). I'll be 17 on the 17th, and I'm in the middle of what would be the equivalent of my Junior year in American schools (they don't call it that here, and the schooling itself is rather different). It's 7-ish in the evening here, whereas in Seattle it's 10-ish in the morning. Good morning, Seattle.

This blog is the written dialogue of my New Year's 2007 Resolution #3: to improve my admittedly limited physical fitness. (Did you know that that's the #1 resolution back in the States? Sadly, despite this, obesity rates continue to skyrocket. Salute, fast food and coronary artery disease). Resolutions #1 and #2 are to write more (creative writing--this doesn't count), and to save enough money for a trip back to the States this summer (I miss it dearly, even though London is quite possibly my favorite city in the world).

Anyway, that's not what this blog is. It's a progress-tracker for Res #3. Physical fitness isn't exactly my forte. Back in the States (I swear, eventually I'll run out of things to talk about from "back in the States"), I barely passed Freshman P.E. I had reconstructive knee surgery just before we left, and most activities more strenuous than walking around the block were agonizing until about 6 months ago. In short, I'm chronicling the whipping of my fat, lazy ass back into some semblance of shape. I'm British. I'm supposed to be enviously skinny and pale. I'm already more than pale without trying. The skinny part, I suppose, is up to me.

Tuesday was Day 1- a running day. I ran 7 minutes and walked 18--a grand total of 25 minutes. Well, Rome wasn't built in a day, and, clearly, neither will my body be reshaped in that time frame. I felt horrible right after the running bit; I was faint and nauseated, but I think that was because I took too much Vicodin (I had all four so-called Wisdom Teeth removed not long ago--still on pain-killers). Anyway, I got back to the house, took a 10-minute power-nap, and made some soup. Mum scolded me for running so soon after surgery. But...whatever. It was oral surgery, not cardiovascular. She's an incessant worrywart. Ever since we moved here, she's transmorgified into Mother Hen On Crack.

Anyway, Wednesday (Day 2) was a non-running day. I consequently spent the day lazing about, watching movies and studying. I hurt something terrible. Took a bath to loosen my aching muscles, but it didn't help much. Oh- also, on Wednesday, Liam brought me Christmas (he was in Switzerland for Christmas, lucky man) in the form of a case for my IPod, so I can run with tunes now.

Thursday (yesterday-Day 3) was a non-running day. I did walk around a bit, shopping with Liam and his sister, but I doubt you could really call that physical activity; I've never been too lazy or laid-up to do some walking. I've always walked quite a bit, actually.

Today (Day 4) was a running day, as is tomorrow. Running the whole 7 minutes was a bit more of a challenge today, but I expected that. The stiffness in my legs wasn't quite worn out yet, but by the time I got back to the house, I was completely spry. It felt good. There's actually a point in one's running where your body produces endorphines while running, so that you actually feel happy from running. I'm not there yet, but I vow to be there soon.

Adieu,

Converse Runner Renee

Oh, by the way--I do run in a trashy pair of old black Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars. Why ruin a good pair of new shoes when the Converse are more comfortable anyway?