Team in Training Update 1

Money Raised: $330 (13 percent of goal)
Days of training: 0
Miles run in one session: 3.5

Sunday morning, I decided to issue myself a challenge. Do six miles on the treadmill, however long it takes. See if it can be done.

Six miles, you see, is what the Team in Training running coach said we'd be doing Aug. 1, during our first session at the track.

By slowing down my running speed, and doing 2:1 intervals (two minutes of running and one minute of walking--although you'd call it more jogging/walking for me!), I made it 45 minutes and just over 3.5 miles before calling it a day.

No, I didn't make it to six miles. But I got past 2.5, which was the most I could do last week before nearly collapsing on the treadmill. I pushed past the 20-minute mark, which is generally my cue to move on to something more interesting, like breakfast and "16 and Pregnant."

So while I didn't make my goal, and am still miles away from feeling prepared for my first session with the team, I couldn't have been prouder of myself on Sunday.

As a bonus, the treadmill said I burned my way through 500 calories. So maybe this will help me with a couple other goals as well!

Team in Training

This weekend, I did something totally out of character.

I signed up to run a half-marathon. But in case that's not enough of a personal challenge to take on, I'll be running it with The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team in Training, and fundraising $2,500 to boot.

Basically, I'm committed to doing two things I don't enjoy: Running, and asking people for money.

The strange thing is, I'm excited about it. I have this feeling that I can run 13.1 miles, but currently my mind and body get in the way. I also think that $2,500 spread around 50 or so people, a handful of fundraisers and a couple corporations isn't such a terrible thing.

This morning, I decided to get a jump start on the coaching and training that begins Aug. 1. I hopped on the treadmill and started doing 2:1 intervals. After 20 minutes and less than 2.5 miles, I hit the emergency stop button and flopped over, panting.

This is not going to be easy.

But I keep thinking of how nobody expects me to do this. When I texted some family members and close friends about my decision, there was a heavy note of surprise along with the support and encouragement. A good friend suggested that hell may be freezing over.

I told my husband over the phone, and while I know he believes that I can do anything, I'm sure my announcement raised an eyebrow or two.

So I think about changing people's perceptions of me; and of changing my own perception too. I think about how I'll feel during training when I can run for 20, 40, 60 minutes without collapsing. How it will be to run by friends and family cheering on my accomplishment.

And I think about what might run through my mind when I cross the first finish line of my life.

To show your support, please visit my Team in Training Web site at http://pages.teamintraining.org/sj/nikesf09/smillergl9.

Wii Mii

When we came back from our honeymoon, there were a few wedding gift surprises waiting for us in our mailbox. Namely, checks. Some big ones.

After collecting them, tallying the amount and writing the proper thank-you notes, I sat Matt down.

"The way I see it, we could do three things with this money," I said. "First, we could use it to pay off some credit cards. Second, we could buy something sensible, like the new set of knives we need."

"Or," he said, gently urging me to get to the point.

"Or we could get a Wii."

Two days and $500 later, we were hooking up our new video game system. I'd not only sprung for the Wii, but also the Wii Fit, the latest exercise craze for the generation that doesn't believe in real exercise.

When you get a Wii, you make a Mii, a fun little avatar that represents you in all the games. You can adjust hair, eye color, face shape, accessorize, you name it. You can also choose your own body type.

Having just looked at my own, curvaceous figure with a sigh, I moved the dial on my Mii down in the Kate Moss direction, directly opposite reality. Happy, I put in the disc for Wii Fit to set that game up.

The first thing that Wii Fit does is import your avatar. I brought Matt's over too, and our little video selves were running and skipping blithely across the screen. They moved effortlessly, like I hoped I'd be able to move after a few weeks of Wii Fit.

The second thing Wii Fit does is a body test. It checks your balance, reflexes and takes your height and weight to determine your BMI.

And when it does that, even the most optimistic Mii planning goes right out the window. There's no fooling Wii Fit.

As the slider on my BMI tab rolled upward, my Mii looked down in despair at her expanding waistline. That's right--she got fatter as the BMI crept to the top of the "overweight" section. Then, adding insult to injury, a little voice piped up through my home's surround-sound speakers.

"That's overweight!" it squeeked.

I was getting ready to chuck the whole system out the window--my avatar's feelings were hurt, I was being shouted at, and I hadn't had the game on for more than 15 minutes! Then something happened that delighted me.

My Mii started running and skipping again! But with her newly chubby form, she couldn't be as graceful and light as she once was.

Truth be told, she waddled and hopped across the screen. Her arms, now plump, couldn't swing weightlessly anymore, so the pumped furiously. You could almost hear her gasping for air.

It was the cutest Fat Mii I've ever seen.

Now, a few weeks later, I don't mind as much when the Wii Fit insults me. "Oof," it says when I step on the board. "That's overweight!" it squeeks when I weigh-in.

I don't mind because I know that when I start up, my Mii will waddle adorably across the screen, begging me to play with her.