In which I make a public commitment to do something that could end up being a colossal failure…

Desperate times, my friends, call for logos containing pirate parrots.

So here’s what I’m planning to do. 

I turn 35 next February. I have absolutely no idea how that happened, as most days I feel approximately 19. Except I drive a way nicer car than I did at 19, and drink LOTS more margaritas. (I didn’t drink any margaritas at 19. Honest, Dad.) Due in part, but not in whole, to those margaritas I am approximately 70 pounds above the weight I wanted to be when I was 19. Or 15. Or 25. Or 34.

So.

Here is my public commitment to finally DO. SOMETHING. ABOUT. IT.

On the suggestion of my sweet and persistent friend Talene, I will be running (running!) the Gasparilla Half Marathon on Feb. 24, the week after my 35th birthday, in Tampa with her. Talene has been encouraging me to enter a race for several months now, and offered to train with me, and even offered up her relatives’ home in Tampa to stay in when we are there for the race. And I’m doing it. She’s traveled to Ireland with me, so she knows I can get cranky when I’m out of my element. And boy howdy, will this put me out of my element.

I don’t know if I can lose 70 pounds in the training process, but I’m going to try. According to my calculations (which makes me sound like Marvin the Martian), there are approximately 199 days between now and the race. That makes 28 weeks. At a rate of 2 pounds per week, that makes 56 pounds. Add in the huge buckets of margaritas I will be consuming AFTER the half-marathon, and I should be able to lose 70 pounds by Easter of next year. So there. And when I do finally shed the 70 pounds, I have something so impossibly cool planned to celebrate it that it doesn’t even bear contemplating. But I will tell you about it. After I’ve lost the first 20 pounds. (Cliffhanger! Ha ha!)

I’ve got a training plan established, which will start this Sunday, Aug. 12. I’ve got my fit friend Jess on standby to help me pick out running shoes once I actually start doing enough running to need new shoes (I’m focusing on just being able to WALK consistently for the first few weeks). I’ve got Talene to help me scout for cheap airline tickets to Tampa in February.

And I hope I have YOU, all my Internet friends, to keep me accountable, to read my whining about having to run (It’s hard! I’m sweaty! I look like a Clydesdale when I run!), to laugh at my bad jokes, and to hopefully celebrate with me when I cross the finish line in Florida. And I will cross it – even if I have to crawl. And I’ve seen the sidewalks in Tampa. I don’t wanna crawl.

So here we go. Arrrrrrrr… ya with me? And arrrrrrr… ya ready for 28 weeks of crappy pirate jokes? Me thinks so!