244. Runner

Today I ran two miles in under twenty minutes. That may not be a big deal for a lot of people, but for me it was historic. I have never been a lover of running. In fact, I've hated even the thought of it pretty much my entire life. I'm a reader. A creator. A writer. A cook. A homebody. An artist. Not a runner. On the rare occasion I found myself enjoying physical exertion it was in the form of short, concentrated, muscle-based exercise: rock climbing, bowling, moving furniture (yeah, that's how bad it was). 

But two months ago I decided I needed to change. So I finally mucked up the courage, pulled up my big-girl panties, and joined a local gym. 

There were many surprised friends and family members when this action was announced. My dislike for exercise was no secret. Why would anyone willingly put themselves through all of that grossness that comes with running? 

Well, it turns out when you're doing it correctly, including warming up and cooling down, and with the correct shoes and appropriate clothing, running isn't so bad. Now, don't get me wrong, it has hurt. But when you actually cool down properly, your body doesn't automatically want to hurl as soon as you stop. You don't get major headaches. You don't feel like you're going to die. Go figure. And when you warm up properly, you don't immediately feel like your legs are burning or that your side is going to split open. And when you wear shoes designed for running, you don't want to cry every time you take a step for the next week. Who knew?!?!

Now, I'm not saying I've suddenly become some phenomenal athletic goddess. No no, I still run slowly. I still can't run far. My lungs still burn when I run harder and faster than my particular threshold. But that threshold is increasing. The distance I can go is a little farther each time. My speed is a little faster. I run on a treadmill because it forces me to keep a steady pace and a straight line. It helps me to properly carry out those warm ups and cool downs that keep my body going. I know that's not as cool as running in races or exploring my city (although this is not a runner's city). But it's a start. 

It's a start to a new, hopefully better, me. When I run I get sweaty. I smell bad and probably look worse. But I feel fantastic. Today I accomplished something I have never done before. My pride in myself and my body overwhelms the discomfort that I felt as I finished. For the first time in a long time I am happy with the way my body is performing. I am happy with myself for getting better, for doing more. I know I have a long way to go before I can really consider myself a runner, but I'm getting better each time I try.

Two months ago I couldn't run to my mailbox (down the street and around the corner). Today I ran two miles. And I couldn't be happier about it.