Give It Up For Amenorrhea

See all these awesome running shoes? Well, I've actually worn a pair of them twice this week.

What is that you say? Impossible? Gina, doesn't run... Well, you're wrong.

As of Saturday, I'm addicted to running. Yep. Addicted. So on Sunday, I laced up my running shoes (Mizunos) for the first time in... well, I'll just say it's been a long time... and ran. Sure, I could only actually run a few minutes at a time before I started sucking wind and had to walk. But hey, at least was doing something.

The impetus for this magical transformation was an article I read in GQ. It was written by a newspaper reporter who hated his job so much that he faced his ill content by developing a raging running habit. Only it was so bad that it really was detrimental to him. (Hence the word "addiction".) He was even sneaking off to do it so his wife wouldn't hassle him about running several times a day.

During this addiction his resting heart rate and body fat percentage plummeted, and he became faster (in his mid-30s) and stronger than he'd been in his whole life. Not too shabby. In the end he was debilitated by a knee injury and was forced to stop. But he did eventually leave the paper for a new gig. (And apparently got a freelance assignment from GQ.)

So what's the best way to convince myself to start running? Just say I'm addicted to it. If I'm addicted, then I can't make excuses because, well... I'm addicted and addicts have to have their drug.

The benefits will be many. In addition to a stronger heart and body, I hope that my resting heart rate and body fat lowers while my stamina and strength increases.

As a special bonus, I'm hoping that my new leaner, meaner body results in amenorrhea, not an uncommon problem among (elite) women runners. And you know how awesome that would be!

P.S. Cassady is a camera whore.