My husband has been running for years. He is a foot taller than I am, almost eight years younger than I am, and I outweigh him by at least ten pounds. He does marathons (including eight Bostons) and I am Cheerleader-In-Chief. That's the way it's always been, and I've been pretty comfy with it.
Somehow in the last week or so the cumulative effect of sitting over my computer like the Hunchback of Notre Dame has flicked some switch inside me, so I went for a walk. I just wanted to stretch. Really. But I found myself going from a fairly decent walking pace to jogging and I'm not sure what went wrong. The scariest part about this is that I rather enjoyed it, so I did it the next day, too. And the next. In the past seven days I've run six times, each time around two miles. The astonishment I feel at not having to stop and gasp at the end of every second driveway is truly mind-bending. I have tried running before and the internal monologue usually went "OK. Just to that light pole and then we can sit on that bench in the shade." But I've been running pretty far without stopping. Don't tell anyone, but there have also been a few hills involved. My image is shattered.
The picture of the elegant silver-haired, smiling runner above is not me, by the way. I don't look anywhere near that happy while I'm chugging along. Nevertheless, I am pretty pleased with myself. I bring my mask in case I run into people (because I am a responsible person who believes in science) but I seldom have to put it on because people take one look and give me a wide berth. Then one day I had what Oprah calls an "aha moment". It was easier to run because although I am older than the last time I tried this, I'm also twenty-five or so pounds lighter. During the enforced time at home, along with learning Italian on DuoLingo, I have also finally been paying some attention to the Weight Watcher suggestions I've been paying for and ignoring for years. It was an effort to feel in control of something, ANYTHING, in a world that suddenly felt very out of control. There is so much going on that I can't do a thing about, so I'm picking my tiny battles and every now and then I win one.
I make no vows here. I have zero interest in doing a marathon, a half-marathon, a 5K, or pretty much anything else that involves people. Running at my own pace with my own thoughts is a pleasant little diversion and I'm good with that. For now. It could all end tomorrow and the inspiration fairy or a twisted ankle could pull me down off this smug little "high" I'm on. But for right now, for the first time in months, I am feeling empowered. How about that?
Somehow in the last week or so the cumulative effect of sitting over my computer like the Hunchback of Notre Dame has flicked some switch inside me, so I went for a walk. I just wanted to stretch. Really. But I found myself going from a fairly decent walking pace to jogging and I'm not sure what went wrong. The scariest part about this is that I rather enjoyed it, so I did it the next day, too. And the next. In the past seven days I've run six times, each time around two miles. The astonishment I feel at not having to stop and gasp at the end of every second driveway is truly mind-bending. I have tried running before and the internal monologue usually went "OK. Just to that light pole and then we can sit on that bench in the shade." But I've been running pretty far without stopping. Don't tell anyone, but there have also been a few hills involved. My image is shattered.
The picture of the elegant silver-haired, smiling runner above is not me, by the way. I don't look anywhere near that happy while I'm chugging along. Nevertheless, I am pretty pleased with myself. I bring my mask in case I run into people (because I am a responsible person who believes in science) but I seldom have to put it on because people take one look and give me a wide berth. Then one day I had what Oprah calls an "aha moment". It was easier to run because although I am older than the last time I tried this, I'm also twenty-five or so pounds lighter. During the enforced time at home, along with learning Italian on DuoLingo, I have also finally been paying some attention to the Weight Watcher suggestions I've been paying for and ignoring for years. It was an effort to feel in control of something, ANYTHING, in a world that suddenly felt very out of control. There is so much going on that I can't do a thing about, so I'm picking my tiny battles and every now and then I win one.
I make no vows here. I have zero interest in doing a marathon, a half-marathon, a 5K, or pretty much anything else that involves people. Running at my own pace with my own thoughts is a pleasant little diversion and I'm good with that. For now. It could all end tomorrow and the inspiration fairy or a twisted ankle could pull me down off this smug little "high" I'm on. But for right now, for the first time in months, I am feeling empowered. How about that?
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