I can’t remember the last time I went for a run. I’ve been extremely lazy with the figure to prove it. I’m not happy with myself, have lost my self-confidence, and have done a disservice to the ladies of Maine.
The other day, The Girl Who Was My Running Partner sent a couple of texts urging me to go for a run to get out of my funk. Back when she was just an arm’s length away, such a comment always resulted in a reply of “How far, Sweetheart? And will you be running with me in those sexy little running shorts that show off your tan, shapely legs?”
I replied that I was having a bad day, but was seriously thinking about running this weekend since the forecast looked much less Polar Vortexy than usual. I woke up this morning determined to keep my promise. I dug my running toga out of storage, found my running shoes, and did my best to remember all my pre-run stretches.
Sadly, I’d left my MP3 player at work, so I couldn’t just crank up the tunes to drown out his voice. Luckily, he saw the determination on my face, and flew off to find another soul.
Even though I was bundled up against the cold, the sidewalks were still very icy, so I was forced to run in the road. My favorite route has a wide shoulder, and since I’d packed on the pounds, I wasn’t exactly easy to miss. Despite my low self-confidence, I was fairly certain I would do some serious damage to any car careless enough to hit me.
The plan was to do the 3 mile starter run I use when I fall off the wagon and have to begin my running program again. It’s all uphill on the way out, so it was a definite challenge. I was breathing hard, feeling it in my legs, and promised myself I could stop and walk at the halfway point to catch my breath.
That promise got me to the 1.5 mile mark. Somehow, I got myself back to The House on the Hill without ever stopping. My second wind kicked in and the downhill route propelled me towards home. I was proud of myself for not needing a walking break, but the last half mile was rough.
I could feel a Winter’s worth of laziness and overeating pulling on my body. It threatened to drag me down into a fetal position in the street while I waited for a Good Samaritan to come by and drive me home. Somehow, I kept going. I think it was the desire to say I’d survived my first run of the year without stopping. Even though I’ve been a slacker and looked like I ate a runner, I still had my pride.
I made it back to The House on the Hill in just under 30:00, and was surprised with the time. My usual runner’s high didn’t kick in, though. I was too sore and too down on myself for how out of shape I felt. I even posted this photo on Facebook to show how unimpressed I was with the state of my personal wellness.
I am happy to report, however, that I plan to do the same 3 mile run tomorrow.
Baby strides for now, Modern Philosophers, but soon enough, they’ll be my usual strong, lengthy runner’s strides. You can count on that just like I’ll be counting all the weight that I’ll be losing. Happy Saturday! Go out and do something healthy today…