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
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...
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