The first time I ran for four minutes I almost threw up. And cried. And planned to quit working out right then and there. It was September 2016. I was 29, wildly out of shape, and attempting to get fit for the first time in my entire life.
I made the decision to commit to exercising this summer at, yes, 29 years old. I own exactly one real sports bra, two pairs of athletic shorts, and one pair of expensive sneakers I bought a few years back when I attempted to complete a Couch to 5K Challenge. (Spoiler: I never made it to the 5K part of the challenge.) The only time I ever wore these items together was when I wanted to run errands and not be judged for looking like a mess. “Oh, she must’ve just come from the gym,” I imagined everyone in the grocery store line saying. “Why else would she be wearing sneakers?”
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