I sorta cheated.

It's not REALLY my fault. Instead, I blame life. Yes, that's it. Life is to blame.

For what? For making me a lazy ass.

First there was Wisconsin. And cheeeeeese. And beer. And some more cheese.

Then, the following weekend, there was Memphis. And beer. And cheese grits. And fried okra. And fried chicken. And shrimp and grits. And banana pudding. (Banana pudding may, in fact, be the love of my life.)

And then I got back to Chicago, full of two weekends worth of delicious-yet-sinful food. And I was itchy from being attacked by bugs. And then I was... well, lazy. And then it was raining. And I was still lazy.

The point of this series of excuses is that's it's been a whee while since I ran. Like, um, since Sept. 21. And it's Oct. 3. Yeah. Classy, Ashley.

Especially since there's less than a month until our 5K.

With the time crunch coming, I skipped a step of training and plowed straight on to week 4, which amounts to 1.5 miles of running and a half mile of walking. And you know what? I didn't feel like I was going to puke. Which I consider an above-average victory.

Of course, there's a good chance going to feel less-than-peachy tomorrow. But hey, who the hell ever thought I could run a mile and a half? (So what if it's interspersed with a little bit of walking.) I sure as hell never thought so.

So moral of the story: a) I'm a lazy ass. And b) go me.

Shawn ... how are you doing?