The Huffin' Puffer

I am such a wimp. I have been trying for years to lose the baby weight I gained with McKenna...and the even more weight that may have come after that. I'm actually quite the weight-loss expert. I have read book after book and countless magazines, and my exercise DVD collection is quite impressive. In regards to all my knowledge on the subject, I really should have the rockin' body of a personal trainer. Really, why don't I? Well, imagine my surprise to learn you actually have to apply that knowledge and participate with the DVDs. Who knew?
Well, in an effort to help me with this reoccurring New Years Resolution of mine, my bff Katie (I use the term bff to reveal my hip, 13-year-old persona) has talked me into training with her for a 5k race taking place in August. Yes, I realize most people don't need 4 months to train for a 3 mile race, but most people aren't as horribly out of shape as I am. So for the first time in over a year, I went running and Katie was good enough to accompany me. (I need accompanying because I know if I went alone my "run" would last all of 5 minutes before I would come up with some lame reason why I had to return home immediately.) Holy crap. I cannot express enough how much effort this took for me. Poor Katie probably felt as though she was out for a nice leisurely stroll while I was panting heavily and seeing black spots. I also could taste blood at the back of my throat...is that bad? Katie is a great sport and has -- for some strange reason -- agreed to meet me twice a week for her leisurely stroll and my half hour of torture. I'm really hoping to not be on the verge of fainting sometime in the near future.