I started a thing this week. This thing used to be something I did a lot. It’s something I worked on for almost 2 years BBA (that’s before broken ankle). I decided to start running back in 2013. I worked my way through a couch to 5K program. I ran in my neighborhood. I ran at the park. I ran on the trail at the golf course and eventually, I felt confident enough as a runner to hit the esplanade along the river.
I eventually made it to 3.1 miles and ran a few races and then up to the 10k… and then it happened.
I slid down an incline hiking in California and broke my ankle.
Running came to a halt for obvious reasons.
Running never came back to me, or rather, I didn’t find my stride again ABA (that’s after broken ankle). I’d hit the pavement on occasion but didn’t get back into rhythm. It was hard. I was upset… no, pissed. My brain convinced me there were other things to do and a few races was enough under my belt.
That was 2015.
Fast forward to 2018. I’ve seen a bit of weight loss since February (25 pounds to be precise – so perhaps more than a bit). I very randomly started waking up early without issue and am able to stay awake when watching tv at night. I figured there’s no time like the present to add running back onto my plate.
So I started on Monday. I ran. I ran further than I thought I’d be able to do but not as far as I was hoping… if that makes sense. It was hot. Slightly humid (which is rare for Portland). It was hard. So hard. But I ran. And on Tuesday, I ran again. It was hot. More humid. Still hard. So very hard. And today, I ran. It was miserable to be honest, but still, I ran. I concentrated on interval running again and did much better. I’ve seen what I can do, am trying not to compare myself to where I was in 2015, and I’m okay with backing up a bit to start again – at least not starting from scratch.
When I first started running in 2013, I could barely get a minute without throwing in the towel. On Monday, I made it a mile before slowing down. Not quite the 3.1 miles I’d be able to pull off 4-5 times a week when I was training up for the 8k… then 10k… but it’s nothing to laugh at really.
I don’t laugh.
Instead, I strut around work. Admiring my new spirit. Proud of my sore legs that are strong enough to carry me through a mile run… proud that I’ll be able to push out 2 miles, then 3 – with time. I know nothing comes right away, but I’m excited to get back at this. Maybe I’ll make it up to that half-marathon I started training for when I first moved to Portland.
For now, I’ll keep lacing up, hitting the pavement, and sweating through it. One step at a time. One interval at a time. One day at a time.
2 thoughts on “A Thing”
You go!! I thought you were looking svelte these days. I so admire you for running–I can’t stand it. I walk. Fast. For about an hour a day. Makes a big difference in my breathing and in how my brain works.
Walking is GOOD! Running is just one of those things I never thought I’d do, so now I am. I’m just so freakin’ proud of myself every
time I run. Such a rush!