Hello everyone! I just got back from running my first mile of the year.

Confession: I hadn’t run since April of last year. Since I got hired at my new (now not-so-new) job, I hadn’t set foot to the pavement. I have recommitted to tons and tons of yoga, stretching and bending and breathing and relaxing, but for several reasons (read: excuses) I hadn’t been running, I realized in almost nine months.

This morning, I woke up early on the dot (is this how not being able to sleep in on the weekends starts!?) and figured that I should exercise somehow before diving in to my day – I am trying to learn how to slow down and take time for me before moving on to the household, the blog, etc. But I went to yoga on Friday and stupidly hurt my shoulders, so I didn’t want to push myself through too much yoga.

Jeff got me a new arm band when I got my new iPhone, and it was sitting in my side table still in the box. So I took it out, grabbed my headphones, sneakers, and changed and headed outside. It was the perfect temperature – about 65 – so I knew I had no excuses but to run.

I only ran a mile, because I wasn’t sure if I could even do that without stopping. In my stride, I had run a 10k, but that was more than a year ago. Normally, I could run about two miles without stopping, and my route was three miles, which meant one or two walking breaks.

But I ran my whole mile, you guys. One thing I have learned in running is that I am pretty good at setting my pace, knowing from the get-go how fast I should run in order to keep pace my whole run. So I ran the mile block around my house. And I ran the whole thing (even the leg of it that is uphill.) I didn’t die, I was out of breath but not wheezing, and my legs and feet and body really doesn’t feel any worse for the wear.

Here’s to many, many more miles this year. It always starts with one, right?