I remember being fat all my life. I was never a fan of walking for exercise or transportation (any farther than I had to go anyway). Not from middle school, not to the country store, and not to the mall, though all of them were probably less than a mile from my house. It might as well have been 20 or 100 miles. And running? Well. I was never a fast runner and running from home to first on a single was about all I really wanted to have to do. And really, this kind of exercise just wasn't something I could do. I was too out of shape. Too fat.
It wasn't until the wedding, when Dinah and I were looking through pictures for the centerpieces that I saw, I wasn't fat all my life. There were some pictures where I was thin. I was a little surprised to see that. And it led me, of course, to thinking I could be thin again some day.
Well. Today is not that day. But, it is getting better and I did make a decision that is either a little stupid or just a little different. I entered a race.
It's just a 5k (which is just over 3 miles for those who only measure in American), but in my mind it seemed insurmountable. Add to that the fact that I entered it through the firm where I work (after asking the outsourcing company whether or not this was okay, because, you know, I work here, but I don't work here). Running a distance I had never run, with coworkers about, seeing me sweating and panting. This sounded like a bad idea. A very bad idea. But, on Thursday last week I entered anyway.
So. Unsure of what the hell to do, I turned to Dinah. Who turned to the internet. We found this. A nice schedule that should help prepare my legs so that I won't embarrass myself more than I have to. I counted back from the day of the race (August 14, btw), and was frightened at the thought of having to run the number of miles they recommend. Most of my running had been around a mile to a mile and a half. Now, I was looking at the week before and seeing 4 miles, followed by 2 miles. It was crazy. There was no way I could do this. But I also couldn't pull out.
So, Sunday morning, Dinah and I set out on my first 3 mile run, as the schedule dictated. (I'm on week 3 and today is the Friday of that week, if you want to know what I should be working on.) It sucked. It sucked, but I did it. I ran the full way without stopping (a big deal to me). And yesterday I did 3.5 miles (though the schedule called for 3, the weather here has been so goddamned lovely*, I just kind of wanted to keep going, so I did). This is good. For me.
Often times, I find myself intimidated by the efforts others make. People who run 10 miles a day or who lose 50 pounds in two months. And I don't want to compete with them. I don't want to run 10 miles. I don't know how far I want to run really. But. I'm now running farther than I thought I could.
*Note. I mean, wow. It's actually kind of cool here this week. In the middle of July. I know this is somehow related to the weather changes in the world and it's ultimately probably a bad thing, but I can't help but enjoy it. It's putting a crimp in my usual summer "video gaming/watching movies/being inside all the time" mentality, but in a good way.
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