Tomorrow’s a Big Day

Tomorrow I will run a mile. Without stopping.

For the first time ever.

 

That’s right. ONE mile.

Well technically, 20 minutes, so actually more than a mile.

 

Tomorrow is week 5 day 3 of my Couch to 5K training. But this is more of a milestone than finishing the program and running 3 miles in my book.

This was how I felt after my last run….

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I’ve always hated running. Running was punishment in cheerleading. We only ran if we weren’t doing our best. It wasn’t part of warm ups or training. (Nick would say that’s because it’s not a a real sport). I did some running junior year when I took a weight lifting class for my PE credit and I killed myself trying to keep up with the guys (there was only one other girl in the class and she skipped a lot) so I found ways to cheat. We did laps around the school for that class, so if I was slow enough on the side of the building where the teacher couldn’t see me, the guys could all lap me and I could do one less lap than the class.

When it came time to complete the mile each year, I dreaded it. I always got that shooting pain in my right side that made me take a break and walk. I worried on more than one occasion my appendix was exploding right there on the track. So I would run the straights and walk the curves of the track. A method many girls used. We would stick together and chat while running, and that was really hard to do. One year I didn’t finish in the allotted time of 15 minutes.  I was told anyone could walk a mile in 15 minutes, so I tried it. Yeah, guess I’m not anyone. So I had to make it up and “run” it a second time.

I didn’t take gym my senior year. I’m thankful for alternatives to traditional gym class in college. I vowed never to run or be a runner.

Before Mariah was born, my husband and his friends made a pact to run a marathon together – and they did. I said I’d learn to run a mile – and I didn’t. Nick has since run another marathon, a mini triathalon and two team relay races that go for 24 hours straight. He’d really like me to run with him. I always told him the girls will run with him one day.

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But somehow I decided to give this running thing a try.  I’m not sure why, or how I finally got over the anger  I had towards it. I just felt ready. Ready to give it a go.

And it’s going. I don’t love it by any means, but I don’t hate it either. For me, not hating exercise is good. VERY good.

I’ve decided all my running woes are due to not being taught how to pace myself. You see, I liked sprints – and I was pretty good at the 100 meter. I didn’t now how to slow it down enough to make it four laps around the track. Running on a treadmill has been so good for me. I can set my pace and stick to it. My pace is a whopping 4.1 mph which I would consider the grandpa jog, but it’s a solid steady pace I can handle.

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And tomorrow, I’ll grandpa jog for a whole 20 minutes. I’m not sure how that will happen since my training on Monday only had me running 8 minutes twice, but I’ll try. I still have to decide if I should listen to Jesus Music and pray as my distraction, or listen to Justin Timberlake and choreograph dances and music videos in my head instead. Two totally different extremes, but that’s how I’ve gotten this far. Guess it’ll depend on my state of mind when I step on the machine.

I’m looking forward to overcoming an obstacle I’ve always felt like I would never conquer. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about it once it’s over tomorrow.

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