If you would have told me a year ago that I would soon find myself at 5 months without alcohol I would have probably laughed in your face.
If you would have told me a year ago that I would voluntarily be waking up at 7:30 am on a Saturday morning to go jog for 3 miles, I would have thought you had literally gone in sane.
Seriously. I am not a runner. I am the farthest you can come to being a runner. I remember once, when I was about 9 or ten, I heard a dance teacher tell someone that running builds the wrong type of muscles, and that if you want to be graceful and strong, you should definitely NEVER EVER run. She probably didn’t tell someone that they should NEVER RUN, but that’s the way I’ve always chosen to remember it.
For many years, I used that as my excuse as to why I would never allow my personal RPM go above 3.5. Even during the times in my life where I’ve been a little obsessive about working out-I would do spin class, swim twice a day, do hot yoga, take numerous aerobic classes, spend $120 every two weeks on a personal trainer-but I wouldn’t run. Running would mean doing something I’ve spent a lifetime convincing myself I couldn’t do.
Back in May, my boyfriend decided to take some steps in vastly improving his lifestyle. As a result, we both started making healthier choices about what we ate. We started taking longer hikes. He decided to give the Couch to 5K app a go. I did not. For the first few weeks, I watched as he grew more and more excited about his runs, and as he visibly got into better shape. The tiny part of my mind that challenges me to do good things for myself like “put down that bag of doritos,” or “take your vitamins” started chiming in with ridiculous notions such as “you should try to go on a run.” And really, to me-that sounded ridiculous.
Eventually, either out of boredom of my current workouts, or my dire need to not be left out of things that my boyfriend finds enjoyable, I decided to give it a shot.
I periodically take pictures of myself working out and send them to my boyfriend as proof. I wouldn’t believe me either.
In the beginning, I was pitiful. I could barely run 3 minutes without having to stop. But I kept on trying.
After a few weeks I was ecstatic to reach a half-mile without stopping. Then a mile. Then two. I’m still not a runner. I still struggle. Some days I give up, because I can. Some days it takes sitting in my car for 20 minutes before I can hype myself up enough to go. A lot of days I opt to use that hour to take a nap instead. But other days, the days where I actually have confidence in myself and try… I still surprise myself. With every extra minute I tack on, I feel so happy that I want to try again. I can feel my body changing, growing stronger. It gives me time to de-stress, and definitely relieves anxiety.
More than anything- I’m proud of myself for trying something I never thought I could. I want to get better. I will probably never run a marathon, but perhaps one day I’ll run a half. This weekend, I’m running in my very first 5K. Baby steps, I know-but it’s a big baby step for me. Feel free to drop a donation to our team!
This weekend we are running the Race for the Cure, all for the sake of boobies. We all love boobies, right? My boyfriend signed me up, so the link is for his name, but it would help us out a lot! Click the link here.
Today you should try something that you don’t think you can do! You might surprise yourself!