Who could have guessed? I, the one of the motor mouth and quick wit, whose brains and words could have taken me out of the solar system and back a billion times over, would be embarking on a new life as…athlete. Strange but true. For all my bellyaching about my birth defect, bad attitude, and general distaste for all strenous exercise, have reduced my body fat by 3% and am registering for my first half-marathon. I didn’t collapse at the shoreline or freeze in the ice-cold shower. I’ve developed a taste for turkey bacon and love to snack on raw almonds. People can change.

I went into the City yesterday, having successfully slipped(yes, slipped) into that pair of classic cut Calvin Kleins that have been waiting for me since last September. I was unable to buy new jeans at Banana Republic the previous day: the boyfriend and favorite cuts in size 8(my two personal preferences in jean styles)were too damn big and unavailable in size 6. I decided to celebrate this milestone by treating myself to a gourmet cupcake. It was too Sex and the City for me to resist: the girl with a bag full of shoes enjoying a sinful dessert. $2.50 and well worth the hundreds of calories: the cake was light and fluffy, topped with three white chocolate shavings and buttery frosting. It was so airy I had to devour it in three quick bites as it dissolved in my fingers. In an effort to balance out the intake of simple sugar, I stopped in for a Jamba Juice.

Last night was my first training run. I have to admit I was skeptical. True, I ran at boot camp every session but I often wanted to scream for it to be over. Funny how good conversation and bull-headed stubbornness can make anything possible. The moral support of good friends and a favorite Bible verse help, too. I used to think there was a 1 in a million chance I’d ever choose to run for fun. And then I did.