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Running From The Past
Dec. 3rd, 2011 06:36 pmSo today - about half an hour ago, actually - I did my first day of Couch to 5K training. Because I am a stubborn wench, and because I have gotten my head stuck on the idea of participating in the Boston Run For Your Life, and because I'm not going to let a stupid thing like winter weather, a history of exercise-induced asthma, and a complete lack of anything like experience get in my way. And... it's weird.
I've been working out steadily for over two years now, and - all body image issues aside - I have to admit I'm in pretty decent shape, physically. I'm strong, and I'm toned, and I'm flexible, and there's precious little that intimidates me.... except running. I'm not afraid of yoga classes or pull-up bars or the P90X DVD's that a friend brought me or anything else that I've found until now, but the thought of running gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies.
It's taken me over a month to get off my backside and find a gym nearby where I can actually run on a track (luckily, Tufts campus has a decent gym and affordable alumni rates), and then to make it down there and register. And I did that, and I felt fine about it, until this morning when I had promised myself I'd just start the program, darnit. At which point, suddenly, I was 16 years old again, the fat kid in gym class, failing to run the mile while all the other kids laughed at me and called me Beached Whale and generally made my life miserable. And I sulked and I fretted and I lay in bed and I explained to my ever-patient husband that I could not do this thing, and that I gave up, and quit, and that I didn't want to run after all.
And then, because I am a stubborn wench, I got up out of bed and I did it anyway. Except, because Tufts gym is obnoxious, it turns out they don't open the track that early. So I went back this afternoon, this time with said husband in tow, and we ran (and walked) together.
Now I am slowly catching my breath, and my calves are a bit achy (I have a very bad habit of running on my toes that I am going to have to break) and I'm not sure how my body feels about this 'dinner' thing, but... I did it. And no one pointed, or laughed, or called me names, though I did have to dodge a couple of stray basketballs.
Maybe I can do this.....
I've been working out steadily for over two years now, and - all body image issues aside - I have to admit I'm in pretty decent shape, physically. I'm strong, and I'm toned, and I'm flexible, and there's precious little that intimidates me.... except running. I'm not afraid of yoga classes or pull-up bars or the P90X DVD's that a friend brought me or anything else that I've found until now, but the thought of running gives me the screaming heebie-jeebies.
It's taken me over a month to get off my backside and find a gym nearby where I can actually run on a track (luckily, Tufts campus has a decent gym and affordable alumni rates), and then to make it down there and register. And I did that, and I felt fine about it, until this morning when I had promised myself I'd just start the program, darnit. At which point, suddenly, I was 16 years old again, the fat kid in gym class, failing to run the mile while all the other kids laughed at me and called me Beached Whale and generally made my life miserable. And I sulked and I fretted and I lay in bed and I explained to my ever-patient husband that I could not do this thing, and that I gave up, and quit, and that I didn't want to run after all.
And then, because I am a stubborn wench, I got up out of bed and I did it anyway. Except, because Tufts gym is obnoxious, it turns out they don't open the track that early. So I went back this afternoon, this time with said husband in tow, and we ran (and walked) together.
Now I am slowly catching my breath, and my calves are a bit achy (I have a very bad habit of running on my toes that I am going to have to break) and I'm not sure how my body feels about this 'dinner' thing, but... I did it. And no one pointed, or laughed, or called me names, though I did have to dodge a couple of stray basketballs.
Maybe I can do this.....
