Picture this . . . it's the summer of 2009. I know I need to do something to start getting my body moving and back into shape. Okay, when I say "back into shape", I'm using the phrase loosely. It's a shape I hadn't seen since 1996. As usual, I am lamenting with a co-worker who has similar concerns. I tell her about my "prior life" as a wanna-be, pseudo runner and how much fun the Walt Disney races were. I caught her at a weak moment - and we registered. The rest, as they say, is history. That race (unfortunately, not the training prior to the race) was enough to give me the wake-up call I needed. I trained on and off AFTER this race, but really got re-committed in the summer of 2010 . . . after my third Floridian debacle. I swore to never have a race like that again. As a result, I am now registering for longer distance races as often as possible - I am shooting for monthly if I can swing it. It forces me to get out there - after all, you can't fake 13.1 miles too often.