I am not a runner. Not exactly. I’ve never really been able to run. In the past, during brief spurts of fitness, I was able to stick to a routine on a treadmill. For one brief shining moment (it lasted all of a day), I actually ran a mile on the treadmill. And. Never. Did. It. Again.
Time has passed, the weight has returned, and my muscles have all but disappeared. As part of my new healthy lifestyle, I decided to give jogging a try again. This time, I don’t have a treadmill, so I’ve been huffing & puffing on streets, trails, and tracks. Jeez louise, roads are much harder than the treadmill. At first, I was just walking. I added about, oh, 20 seconds of jogging to each day’s workout. Gradually, I increased my time. I haven’t really been keeping track of how long or how fast I jog. I don’t even know how long the trails are at the parks. I was just glad I could jog at all.
Thanks to the recent crappy weather and local flooding, I’ve been spending more time at the track and I can’t help but keep track (sorry, pun intended) of my mileage. Four laps around the track equals 1 mile. Two weeks ago, I couldn’t even jog halfway around the track. Once. Halfway. That’s 1/8 of a mile. For some people, that’s the length of their driveway. I felt discouraged, thinking I would never be able to get my fat a** all the way around the track and never be able to run a mile. When pigs fly, I thought–or run.
And run they did. On Wednesday, I ran a whole lap around the track. I know that’s not a whole lot, but it was a lot to me! For the first time, I felt like I could actually do it, and I didn’t feel like death warmed over. I wasn’t able to repeat my performance on Wednesday, but I was happy I did it at all. I didn’t get my hopes up that I’d be able to repeat it.
But I did! This evening, I jogged three laps around the track! Okay, okay, so they weren’t in a row, but it’s a start! Here’s what I did:Lap 1: brisk walk Lap 2: jog Lap 3: brisk walk Lap 4: jog Lap 5: brisk walk Lap 6: jog Lap 7: cool-down stroll
That last jogged lap was a challenge. As I rounded the final curve, I was pumping my fists–as if boxing the air would make my legs keep going. I guess it worked, because I did it! It didn’t even bother me that a man twice my age passed me–more than once.
I’m hoping that in my next “run,” I’ll be able to jog four laps for a whole mile. Okay, so it won’t be all in a row, but it still counts, right?