My legs are on fire, and I make a lot of funny noises when I bend down. I dread going down the stairs. I grab the railing tight, take a breath, and grunt as I descend. But my muscles are alive, which means I’m alive. They’re yelling and screaming at the change. Sounds familiar.

Although a goose could run faster than me, I’m getting out there, taking it up a notch; wondering what brand of shoes is the best; wondering where I can get some running shirts. I think I’m hooked.