One year ago yesterday, I timidly, nervously, and hesitantly stepped out on my
lunch break, wearing size XL shorts of my husbands and an XL t-shirt. I fumbled
with my cell phone to start the Couch to 5k application, turned on Pandora (also
my first time to use that) and started walking. The 60 seconds of running was
TORTURE. Was it actual physical torture? No, not really. It was mental torture.
I was not good enough to run those 60 seconds.
Two days later was even harder. Day 2. Can I do day 2? Shouldn't I just skip
it? For me at that time, running was all mental. I went and completed it. I
fought myself every single step over the 11 weeks that it took me to get through
it. I repeated week 7 three times because I just felt that week 8 was asking
too much of me. The only reason I think I even kept going was because I signed
my husband and I up for a 2 mile Polar Bear Plunge, and I didn't want to
embarrass myself being around real runners.
Fast forward a few months, I had ran a maximum of 4 miles, and was still
fighting myself every single step. If i wasn't such a crazy stubborn mule of a
woman, i would have given up. I know I would have. But I met people, I made
friends. I got skinnier, healthier, more endurance. I no longer breathed heavy
when running. I found mud runs and obstacle runs. I found that I loved to pin
those race numbers on my shirts. I loved the medals. I loved the fact that after
a mud run, I normally had to take two showers to get all of that mud off.
But I still had that niggling self doubt. It took me 9 months and deciding
to sign up with my local running store for marathon training before that voice
went away. For whatever reason the act of showing up for that first 5 mile run
cleared my head. I could do this. I was doing this. I had twenty weeks to
prepare. That nasty little voice just disappeared!
Fast forward another 3 months and I am about a month and a half out for my
first marathon. I have 3 more long runs, a 16, 18, and a 20. I wear size small
running skorts only, and will only wear the wicking material. The thought of a
t-shirt makes me cringe. I now feel that anything less than 5 miles really isn't
worth my time. If I run a 5k race, I don't count it as exercise. I have big plans for lots of fun
races.
I'm not the fastest runner, the longest runner, or the best runner. But
after one year I can tell you one thing: I am a runner!