Running: Who Knew?

I have never liked to run. In junior high, when we had to run the mile for the Presidential Fitness program, I refused to do it. I walked. But you have to finish in 15 minutes or something like that, so I had to run part of it at the end. I hated every minute of the damn thing.

There's a 2 mile road race before my hometown's 4th of July Parade that raises money for a scholarship fund in the name of a childhood friend's brother, who was killed when we were all still in high school. I've done it a number of times through the years, but I've always walked it, on purpose.

I played soccer when I was 10 - 12 or thereabouts. I quit after that. So much running.

I got yelled at in gym class routinely through my entire school life for not fulling participating, especially when the activity required running.

I was practically the tallest girl in the 9th grade and the gym teacher / coach tried to recruit me for basketball. You kidding me?

I was never overweight in school, ever. Not till college did my family genetics catch up with me, and even then, I've never been more than 30 pounds overweight, and on my 5'10" frame, I can (mostly) carry it off. And, I'm active in other ways. I ski, I dived for years, I love to canoe, raft, do adventure stuff like bungee jump, dogsled, zipline, etc. I am also a city-dweller, so I walk a lot. A tank of gas typically lasts me a few weeks and I have a 12 minute walk on the front end of my commute and an 8 minute walk on the back end, reversed on the way home. I often go walking in my neighborhood (which has a huge pond with a 1.5 mile walkway around it and a huge Arboretum, which includes two good-sized hills).

I have only been a religious gym-goer one other time in my life, when I lived in LA, and that was because everyone in LA is a poser in one way or another, and I really wanted to stay thin while I was living there. For the record, it didn't work. I was fit, but gained weight just the same while living there because I was eating like a pig, as usual. I have also dieted my way out of those 30 extra pounds a few times over the last decade, using Weight Watchers mostly, and skipping the exercise, since I hate it so much.

I have used every excuse in the book. Here's a few: Exercise doesn't work for me, it's all about what I eat. I hate to run. I hate the gym. I won't get up in the morning. I like to be outside too much.

I decided just after Christmas to give the gym another go. I thought I was going for the classes: affordable yoga is almost impossible to find. And I needed something to relax me, and perhaps help with toning my body a bit. At the same time, I made an attempt to stop eating so much and so frequently and so much bad shit (my sweet tooth is the bane of my existence). I started going. And I jumped on the treadmill, being such a good walker and all. I could walk forever, really.

And I ran.

And I almost died. I said to myself, "If you can run 5 minutes in a row, you can stop." And this was at a 13-minute-mile pace. And I ran those 5 horrible minutes and I stopped. That week, I went to yoga and went to the gym every day. I rode the bike, walked a lot, and even did the elliptical machine.

The next week, I convinced myself to run a whole mile. And I did it. I hated it, and I sweated more than I've sweated in a long time. But at the end, I felt accomplishment. A sense of "I can do this!"

By the fourth week, almost to the one-month day of when I began going to the gym, I ran 3 miles. And I did it in just over 32 minutes. I was amazed. Holy cow. I can do this. I can run. And it feels amazing. That first mile's a killer, and the second one tries to convince you the whole time to stop, just stop! But that third one, it's easy. Really.

So now I'm running three miles about three times a week. Some days are easier than others. Last week, one morning, I could barely convince myself to keep going, and had to walk part of the second mile in order to push through the third. But three days later, I got on there and ran three like it was my job. And yesterday I ran three miles in only 31 minutes. I've even gone past the three-mile mark and done 3.5, but have to get off for someone waiting or because I'm going to be late for work.

My goals now? Run 5 miles by the 4th of July. Run outside once the weather gets nicer and see if I can actually run 3 miles outside (big difference between the treadmill and the street). Enter a 5K and run it by the end of the summer.

Dream goals that I'm not ready to commit to yet? Run a 5-mile roadrace by the fall. Train for a sprint-trialthalon for next spring (1/2 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run). God only knows if I'll follow through on this long enough for those to become a reality. Time will tell.

In the meantime, running's like drugs. I tried to figure out how I could get to the gym today. There's no way. I left the house at 7 a.m. for an 8 a.m. meeting and my last meeting of the day will get out at 9 tonight, getting me home by 9:40. For a minute and a half, I considered trying to get to the gym by 9:30 for a 30 minute run before they close at 10. No way I'm gonna make that, but I thought about it.

And my body's changing. My legs are more powerful. The celluite is slowly disappearing. My ass is smaller. Jeans that have been in my drawer for a year or more fit again. I like the idea that my body might sculpt itself differently than it ever has before.

And I'm keeping the yoga. All this running needs to be countered by strength and relaxation. The balance will keep me healthier.

And those calories? I'm staying away from the cookies for the most part, making a three-pieces-of-fruit smoothie each morning, and keeping the beer to a minimum. Because what goes in my mouth still matters. But now exercise does too. Another great balance.