Wednesday, October 2, 2013


Remember how I was going to get up at 5am everyday to run?  Yeah.  Well I remembered I like to sleep and while I am (sort of) a morning person, not THAT early in the morning.  I did enjoy my first (and probably only) early morning run on Monday.  It was cool, quiet and mostly invigorating.  But I wasted getting up early by going back to bed when I was done.  I said I would do the early run/walk every other day for the first couple weeks and last night, when I thought about getting up at 5am this morning, I wanted to cry.  So instead, I decided to just do it right then and there.

We had just finished dinner, Caroline had had a bottle and was happily gurgling in her bouncy seat, Emily was watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.  I was already wearing yoga pants (my at-home uniform), so I threw on some socks, put on those nasty old running shoes (someone please send me a gift card to Foot Locker already!) and told Jerry "I don't want to get up early.  I'll be right back."

Last year, Jerry mapped out a 1-mile route around our neighborhood.  Monday morning I started out going left at the stop sign, so last night, I decided to go right (I like to live on the wild side...)  I told myself I was only going to walk.  But then a lady passed me running and I felt challenged.  She wasn't skinny, and she wasn't going very fast.  I didn't want to be weird and immediately start running too, so I let her (ha!) get a ways ahead of me and then started to trot myself.  Many of my favorite bloggers have termed what I was doing "the fat girl bounce" and it totally is.  So I did until I got to the next stop sign (wasn't very far at all) then I started walking again.  I still don't know how to breathe...

But then, as I rounded the corner, about 1/3 of the way in to the mile, I started jogging again.  And, I just kept going.  I realized I had gone about .5 mile and I kept going.  I kept telling myself, "ok run to that mailbox and you can stop."  But then I kept going.  My breathing was all messed up and I started to get a cramp, but then I noticed that I was about 3/4 of the way done and I didn't want to stop.  Let me clarify--I REALLY wanted to stop.  But I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I could at least run 2/3 of a mile without stopping.  I realize this is a really minor thing.  I should be able to run an entire mile without stopping.  But obviously I can't...yet.

So anyway I kept going.  I turned the corner of my street.  From the stop sign at the end to my house is a really steep incline.  I was basically moving in slow motion.  If someone had driven by, the wind from the passing car would have knocked me over.  But I kept going until I got to my driveway and then I slowed down and tried to walk it out.  I couldn't breathe.  I thought I was having a heart attack.  I stretched/sprawled out on the steps, then forced my legs to move again up to the door.

Afterward, I was pretty sore and tired, but felt really good.  I was proud of myself for almost dying running most of the way. I know now that as long as I keep it up, I will be able to run a mile with little problem.  I know that it will get easier, but I have to DO it.  I was so glad I took the time (no one missed me; Emily probably didn't realize I was gone) and it felt so good to be outside, and ALONE.  I never liked to be alone very much until I had kids.  That shit is rare and I enjoyed every second (except, you know, for the part where I couldn't breathe and I thought I was going to die).

I keep hearing about the "runner's high" but I definitely have not experienced it yet.  I guess it will keep me going so that I can figure out what it's like.  I may never love to run, but I have secretly always wanted to be one of those people who say "I'm going for a run" and then actually run...

No comments:

Post a Comment