Today's Workout Sponsored By The Following Adrenaline Boosters:

At first, I didn't need any adrenaline boosters. The sun was shining, the breeze on my face, my legs were strong, and it felt great to just get out of the house. Even the dog seemed excited to be going for a jog. Bring it on!

But then, after I'd ran for...oh...50 yards at least...my legs started to give out and my heart was threatening to leap out of my chest. OK, now I could use some adrenaline.

My iPod delivered. Thank you very much, Toby Mac!

After a while though, it was the simple fact that I was running in my own neighborhood that kept me going. I have to face these people every day...get a move on it, legs!

Made my way out of my immediate neighborhood, and into an adjacent neighborhood. It's so beautiful with big trees, horses, singing birds, sweeping views of the mountains. Gorgeous. But not exactly energizing enough to get my legs moving at the rate I wanted them to move. Until...

Along comes giant Dalmatian - sprinting from it's owner's open garage door. Yep, that did it. I picked up the pace for a couple of blocks at least.

Starting to slow again. Uh oh. No adrenaline boosters in sight. OK...I guess if I'm going to be honest this is where I admit it...I walked for about a quarter mile. I had no choice. It was to the point where my body was doing the ..."choose: breathe or have your heart continue to beat" thing. I decided I'd better walk and choose both.

But then there was that creepy guy in the van who drove by...reaalllyyy sloooowly. Yep, there's that good old adrenaline again. Let's go girl, we're a-runnin' again.

Am I almost home yet? Oh, I know! Those chocolate chip cookies sitting on the kitchen counter. I'm having one when I get home. That will be my reward.

How am I possibly going to run all the rest of the way back? Leave it to my very own body to give me the answer...get home or pee your pants. Ya know, after 4 kids...the old bladder just isn't what it used to be.

Uh oh. Slowing down again.

But then I notice my dog. She seems to have slowed significantly. All this while, I'd been telling myself that she was slowing down because I was just working her too hard. You know...with all the Olympic speed running we'd been doing. But then my eyes were opened to the truth: the dog wasn't running at all. She'd adjusted her pace, and was actually just walking very quickly.

So I was killing myself, and my dog wasn't even trotting. Yep, that made me mad. I ran at least fast enough to make her pick up her pace a little. That's better. Her tongue is hanging out and she's panting. NOW we look like a matched pair.

Oh, Lord. I can do everything through you who strengthens me? Are you sure? Are you sure you meant to include jogging?

I'm almost back to my neighborhood. I want to make it home at a run...both because I want this dang run to be over with already...and because I'm sure my face is beet-red by now and I'd rather not display it in my own neighborhood for longer than necessary.

Oh. Thank you Black Eyed Peas and your wonderful song, "Pump It". I don't really approve of some of the language, but hey, these are desperate times. It's perfect. I make it all the way home still running at a decent pace.

"Hi Ben."
"Hi Mom...Hey Mom! You need some sun screen! Your face is REALLY sun burned! It's bright...like glowing...red!"
"Um, yeah. Hey, you're standing in the path to the bathroom. Outa my way."

I'm having TWO cookies.