a short jog





So maybe July in Texas isn’t the best time to start running again.
But I have never been confined by logic,
So lately,
My Nikes which have been on hiatus for a while are getting a workout.
Just last week they still looked shiny and new even though I’ve had them for months.

I used to run.
I’m not really sure how that started either.
One Spring break I was broke, most of my friends were either out of town or weren’t lucky enough to get Spring Break and my husband was on the road for business.
So I decided that I was going to run a marathon that week.
Not like in an actual race.
Just that in the next 7 days I was going to run 26.2 miles.
And I did.
Which was kind of dumb idea for a beginner.

The first day I ran 3.75 miles. And my legs felt like jelly.
The next day I ran another 3.75 miles and prided myself on how not too miserably sore I was.
And on the third day, I wasn’t sure I could even get out of bed.
But I ran my 3.75 miles anyways.
I finished my 26.2 miles that week and kept running.
I felt happier than normal (and I’m usually pretty happy).
My thighs stopped rubbing together and even though I was pounding the pavement for long stretches of time everyday I had more energy.
In other words, all that crap they say about exercise is apparently true.
And a few months later I ran a half marathon.
My time was nothing to be proud of, but I finished without walking or stopping and I felt like super woman.
But then I decided I deserved a break.
And it hasn’t ever been the same since.

Not running only made me not want to run more.
Even though I missed being skinny and happy and not always so tired.

Unlike my mountain biking phase, and my scrapbooking phase, and my guitar playing phase,
This is a phase that I continually come back to every few months.
Occasionally I sign up for a race and train for a bit,
Or run consistently for a stretch.
But I am usually disheartened.
I remember when I could run for hours and curse myself for sucking wind after 5 minutes.

It is easy to quit.
It is easy to say that I will run tomorrow instead.

But for some reason, maybe boredom again.
I laced up my shoes last week.
I set the bar low.
I told myself I’d just go for a short jog.
1 mile. Maybe less. I consoled myself with the fact that anything would be better than nothing.
I couldn’t find my ipod, which I thought meant it would be a really short run.
And before I even got off the driveway it started misting.

But I ran anyways.
Even when the rain started coming down pretty hard.
And I ran 2 miles instead of just 1.

And it felt so good, that a few hours later I ran again.
That night I puked. ( maybe that had something to do with the second martini……but I also blame the shock to my body)
I ran the next day too.

I am not signed up for any kind of race (at least not til September).
I am not on any crazy diet (although I probably should be).
I am just running because I am tired of being tired.
And the refreshing ache in my thighs and calves feels like a welcome old friend.

And today.
It was so hot, so I told myself…just a short jog.
Just 1 mile. Just 10 minutes.
And again I ran 2.

At some point.
I turned off my ipod.
And just listened.
Lately, my thoughts have been so noisy.
And suddenly all I could hear was my shoes hitting the pavement.
My lungs struggling to breathe and my heart working just a little too hard.
Somehow I had managed to run faster than all the noise.
And I jogged home in my sweaty silence.

3 comments:

davidsbucket said...

Michelle,

Great to hear about the running. I start training for the White Rock Marathon here in a couple of months and I'm scared out of my mind! But I totally get the feeling of peace and quiet where the only sound you hear is your footsteps. Beautiful!

AmommymousBlogger said...

I ran regularly for a brief time but have never managed to keep it up for an extended time either. You're inspiring me to make it happen.

Robin said...

"Not running only made me not want to run more.
Even though I missed being skinny and happy and not always so tired." I love this. I'll have to put that on my fridge.