So I’m doing it.
I’m becoming a runner.
I would like to say this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision brought on by a particularily nasty stepping-naked-out-of-the-shower-and-catching-sight-of-my-post-partum-bode-in-the-mirror-DEAR-LORD-what-has-happened-to-me incident …. but I’d be lying.
Nope, I literally decided this morning that I’m going to begin the Couch to 5K program (C25K, if I wanna be cool). And then I not only bought new runners, but managed to rope a friend into doing it with me, and we went for our first run tonight. Wham, bam, thank you mam. When I decide something, I go all out baby!
The new runners were a necessary purchase, but given that I haven’t worked out since Ricky Martin was popular I decided to splurge on some cheap Joe Fresh workout clothes, too.
Is it a bad sign when you hurt your neck in the dressing room trying on exercise shorts? Because I did. And I’m not even joking. *sigh*
Tonight I suited up and made sure to get my “Before” pics (for my eventual Before & After when I become a tight, toned bronzed goddess, of course).
Another bad sign when you’re beginning this type of program: your own child is visibly confused by the sight of you wearing runners.
“Mom, why you wearing runners?”
"Mommy’s going to go for a run, bud! With Z’s mom! Isn’t that great?”
"You’re gonna run? With runners? Outside?”
"Yes, outside. I’m trying to get some exercise. Aren’t you proud of me?”
"I can run real fast, mom! I can run faster than you!”
Thanks for the support, buddy.
Anyways, I survived the run. Barely. Keep in mind that I honestly haven’t done anything even resembling working out in almost 2 years, so jumping right into a running program probably wasn’t the smartest move.
But it seemed so easy! Have you looked at the program? Sixty seconds of running followed by ninety seconds of walking. I can do anything for 60 seconds! I said to myself, pre-run.
Three minutes into the warm-up walk I realized I was already winded talking to my running partner. Oh, shit.
Five minutes into the run I was cursing the weight of my damned Blackberry I’d brought to track the program. Iphones are awesome, iphones are awesome, iphones are awesome.
Ten minutes into the run I had an awful tightening sensation in my chest. Dear lord, please help me survive to see my children one last time.
And the final minutes were a testament to my ability to hold in vomit. Not here, not here.
At the end of it all my girlfriend didn’t look like she’d broken a sweat, while I looked like I’d just spent 6 months in a sauna wearing saran wrap. But I finished the run, and am one step closer to being the better, healthier me I’ve always dreamed of.
I won’t be able to get up from this computer to walk to my bedroom, but I’m healthier, I can feel it.