Run mama....run!

While I've never really had to worry about my weight too much, I still try to be healthy. I eat a variety of foods, as close to natural as I can, and try to stay active. Walking is my excercise of choice. But after watching my daughter run in track shorts for the last few weeks, I've become dissatisfied with my short white legs and flabby thighs. I want looooong, toned beautiful legs like hers. I decided I would take up running.
So last night, after supper, I suggested she and I run around the mile long circle road we live on. She (being her optimistic, happy self) readily agreed. Off we went.
Twenty steps later I wheezed, "My butt hurts!" "What do you mean?" she asked. "All this running is jarring my butt cheeks!" I replied. "Well, maybe if you stop hopping like that..." she suggested. You know, I've heard of women who have to bind their breasts when they work out. Maybe I should bind my butt. My breasts, unfortunately, weren't even rippling.
She stopped and took a minute to show me correct form.
Twenty more steps and "I'm going to pee my pants." "No you're not." "Yes I am! My bladder is not 16! I've pushed out two babies!" No sound from her as she has no oxygen due to the sidesplitting laughter. At this point I'm surprised she's still running and not rolling on the ground.
I'm no fool, I know when to quit. We slowed and walked the rest of the way. When I could feel my feet again and my hands stopped swelling, we enjoyed the breeze in the trees and had a nice mother-daughter converstation about all things friend and boy.
When we got home, my husband (who 'couldn't' go due to his gout flaring up....like we haven't all used that excuse) said, "Did you have a nice walk?" I just said smugly, "I ran." He didn't look impressed.
Maybe I'll take up yoga instead.