I think the status of my running experiment is best summed up in this conversation with H-Town's brother, runner extraordinaire:
E-Town: how's the running?
Me: I want to stab everything.
btw, I learned this: Do not run on the same day you have burlesque class. FYI
E-Town: haha, ok
Me: my legs are like spaghetti today
E-Town: thin and tasty?
Me: limp and wrapped around a fork
I seriously look like I have just now discovered my knees and I'm still getting used to them. I was confused about why my body was rebelling against this so much - the running part I understand, but I was a dancer for 14 years and I felt like I should be holding up better in the face of pliés and hip circles. Then it dawned on me that the last time I did a plié I was about 17. My body already knew that, and clearly is telling me "No fucking way, lady. You are every day of 33 years old, so stop trying to bend your knees sideways." As with most advice I am given, I've chosen to ignore this, and the 26 seconds of choreography we learned last night has been run in my office today more than once, though I'm not sure if it's because I want to get everything down perfect before the next class or because I like to touch my butt.