One foot at a time

A long time ago I was a runner.  I ran for fun during middle school and  high school.  When I was in high school, I got to school at 6:30 a.m. so I could get my run in before the school day started.  In college, late nights "studying" broke my habit.
I know exercise is important so about every six months I rearrange part of my schedule to fit in some exercise routines.  I always hope to make it a daily discipline, but haven't succeeded for a long term basis yet.  It's hard because my life is caring for others and I can't exactly say, "Kids, you guys take care of yourself while I go for a jog."  Adam would watch them, but by the time he gets home at night, I am fading fast.
Last Saturday I had some Kohl's cash and a couple of hours by myself so I went shopping and bought some new clothes.  I also bought workout clothes, but was disturbed that there weren't any workout clothes in the "women who are bigger than a toothpick" section.  I was able to score a pair of shorts that fit, but they aren't very generous in length.
So on Sunday morning I put on my tennis shoes and new workout clothes with a little bit of hope.  I ran 100 yards, maybe, but walked the rest of a mile.  Yesterday I might have run a quarter of a mile.  Today my shins are sore, but I'm going to keep plugging.
I've heard many people say that working out makes them feel so good.  I haven't gotten to that point that it makes me feel physically good.  However, it is a relief to have it checked off my list.  I have pride in knowing I took care of myself that day and I don't feel guilty for being overweight and sedentary.  I also immediately had more energy.
Today I woke up fully rested at 4 and now that it's five, I'm about to hit the pavement.  I'm not winning any awards for speed or style, but I'm taking care of myself, and that's a good thing.