Getting Back to It
by: Katie McCollow

I started running when I was thirteen, so gosh that was seven years ago....ok, ten years ago. Anyways I was.....OH FINE, 20 YEARS AGO BUT THAT'S MY FINAL ANSWER. Where was I? Oh yeah. I was about to tell you about summer days as a teenager. Captain's practice in the mornings, another effortless jaunt around the lakes at five in the afternoon, just to get the kinks out. I'd arrive at the dinner table at six, showered, loose and relaxed. This summer I gave birth to my third child. During my pregnancy, "two-a-days" came to mean not workouts, but Pepperidge Farm frozen cakes. Yeah, I know, a lot of women runners find out they're pregnant and simply buy maternity tights and get on with it. I am not one of these women. See, it's just because I, um... carried my babies so low. Yeah, that's it.I practically needed a wheelbarrow just to get myself around, much less run. Also, because I didn't feel like it. That's right, I spent my pregnancy happily pouring Hershey's syrup on everything in sight, telling myself that with every brownie I ate the baby was getting eyeballs or something. By month nine, my husband had taken the seats out of our minivan to accommodate me for the ride to the hospital. He's thoughtful that way. But I admit it by six weeks postpartum, I missed running terribly and was ready to get back at it. Plus, it was fall, and there's nothing better than a run on a beautiful fall day. Except a Pepperidge Farm frozen cake. First day back, I felt a little self- conscious. I tried not to stare enviously at all the light and airy runners floating past as I hoofed along, my backside slapping against the backs of my legs. But I was smart, didn't try to go too fast or too far, took walk breaks, made my goal just getting my body used to moving again.

Things were progressing nicely this way when my husband got a call from his best friend, telling us he was bringing his new girlfriend to town to meet us. They would be here in two days. Oh and by the way, did he mention she's a WNBA star? I panicked. On finding out I was about to come face to face with a world class athlete, I went out and basically sprinted four miles in a ridiculous last ditch effort to lose ten pounds and get in shape by the next day. The WNBA star was incredibly charming and polite and seemed not to notice that every time I moved my right leg, I let out a high-pitched mewl and wet myself. That is, until she discreetly asked my husband if they should take me to see someone, as it seemed I was having some sort of seizure. My vanity sidelined me for a good three weeks. I recovered, and am now gingerly easing my way back. My goal is to run the Turkey Trot Thanksgiving Day, no time limit, just be there to be a part of it..

Has anyone seen the Hershey's syrup?