My Trainer is a Rough Collie

I spent nearly $90 to have a "fitness evaluation" at the Community Centre. I should have kept the $ and bought make-up. BoyWonder the trainer decided that I'll have no problem walking 10km and with a bit of effort I should be able to run part of it. My core strength isn't that bad either. Well, no shit Sherlock, I already knew that. So I bought a good pair of running shoes. According to the treadmill, I can do a mile in 22 minutes (for any Canadians reading this, that was not a Rick Mercer joke). But how far is a mile? I'm metric. Remind me to tell you about buying gas in the US sometime. How many gallons does a car take? Not a freaking clue, but I digress. WonderCollie has decided he is my trainer. We walk a block, jog a block. He's got me upt to four blocks running. The evil hound even made me run uphill from the lake. He's rough. He barks at me, he laughs at me, he has a really cheezy dog grin that he flashes. He may just get me into shape. I don't really like scales, but some of the abdominal fat has disappeared. Clothes are starting to fit better. On Thursday, I'm buying my entrance ticket to mini-marathon. December, Vegas, here I come.