I have spent my life basically being a sloth.
Like many young children my parents were supportive in me being active. My mom has been a runner - forever and played field hockey in college. My dad was a runner until stress fractures across the top of his feet slowed him down, and he turned to biking. My brother is insanely active - give the man a ball and he can play a sport.
I, on the other hand, was enrolled in soccer (picked daisies), softball (right field sitting), tennis (wouldn't run for the ball), horseback riding (only wanted to pet the horses), dance (actually liked), gymnastics (was fun), and swimming (loved that).
So I was kinda active in my younger years and like the rest of my family, I ran. But then I got chubby, and then I got boobies - and I just quit running and damn near everything else. So then I got a little heavy.
In college I played rugby, took martial arts, and skated. In graduate school I was too busy to even contemplate working out other than a half-hour here and there in a gym. But after I finally graduated I joined a local roller derby team and thought I had finally found my sport - until I shattered my ankle.
And sometime last fall I decided that nothing says "I can" like forcing my broken, old body to complete a half-marathon. Most people here laugh - lemme tell you why.
Dislocated right shoulder
Broken left wrist
Four broken knuckles
Bad left knee
Broke left leg small bone
Left ankle: torn ligaments three times, shattered, three permanent pins- now fused
Right ankle: torn ligaments three times
Fractured top of right foot
Damaged right knee and hip in a 30 foot fall
Broken 4 vertebrae - permanent compression fractures
So between my terrible driving and car accidents, sky diving, rugby, roller derby, and a mugging - I am a walking broken person.