The pigs have flown

Yesterday was a momentous day. A monumental day. An unexpectedly satisfying day.

I am more fit than my husband.

G is one of those athletic people. You know, the ones who seem to be good at every sport they try? I'm pretty coordinated myself, but he beats me at everything - tennis, raquetball, running, kite flying, surfing, ping pong, etc. . . And he beats me easily. But it's okay. He's a gracious winner - not too much smack-talking - and I've learned to live with it.

You might remember that I've been running. Well my fractions of miles have turned into miles plus fractions, which is a minor distinction, perhaps, but an oh so important one. I've been running every weekday morning, with G joining me on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Last week I ran 1.5 miles on the days G ran with me and 2 miles on Tuesday and Thursday.

This past Monday, we ran just a mile because we woke up too late to go farther. Tuesday I ran 1.5 and I told G he should join me so he could work up to 2 miles. He's a much stronger runner than I am, so his response was something along the lines of "I think I'll be able to do 2 miles without too much trouble."

That brings us to yesterday, our first 2 mile run together. It went well. I felt pretty strong for most of it (which is new for me), and as we walked back home after the run, I asked G how it was for him.

"I think I'm going to throw up."*

And that, my friends, is how I became more fit than my husband. We are so proud of me.

* G did not throw up, and he is looking forward to another 2 mile run tomorrow.