In Celebration of My Body

When I was a teenager my best friend and I decided we were going to go jogging every morning together to "get skinny." (If only I had realized that I'd be praying for the body I had then for the rest of my life.) Anyway, we did it a couple of mornings, but things tapered off when my friend kept showing up at my bedroom window, throwing pebbles to wake me up, at which point I usually dismissed her in favor of a few more Z's.

I hated running. (And sorry for ditching you all those mornings, Tiff.)

I have always hated running. In the seventh grade we could not pass P.E. unless we ran a mile in less than 8 minutes. The sucky thing was that as soon as you did it, you never had to do it again, so those who were already good at running only had to do it once, while those of us who would have found hari kari more preferable than running a mile were forced to do it over. and over. and over.

I eventually did it in 7:58. And then I threw up in the grass.

As I've aged I've learned two things about me and exercise: 1 - The biggest reason I've hated exercise in the past is that I always feel stupid when my athletic abilities are compared to someone else's. I don't run as fast, go as long, jump as high, push as hard. I feel like an idiot. Exercising alone has taught me that I actually like to exercise. When I use myself as the standard, I find improvement rewarding.

2 - I am not a morning person. Exercising in the morning is not something that I can commit to. It's hard and I hate it. The end.

So now that I know these things about myself, I decided to address the fact that I've spent years psychologically perpetuating the idea that my body can't run.

I got tired of saying, "I can't." It may not come easily to me, but I was determined that I could teach my body to run.

Nine weeks ago I began using the Couch-To-5K running plan. On the first day I ran intervals of one minute each.

Yesterday I ran for 35 consecutive minutes, running 3.2 miles (a 5K) for the first time in my life. Not only that, I did it with TLee (who is currently training for a marathon) on a route with lots of incline.

When we finished, I cried. I cried because it was freaking hard. But I also cried because even though I have a muffin top, a butt the size of Montana, and arms that jiggle when I grate cheese, I also have muscles in my calves that propel me up hills, feet that absorb every step, lungs that can deliver oxygen to my blood, a heart that can withstand the strain of heavy pumping for over half an hour and a mind that has finally accepted the fact that the only limitations on my body are the ones I set for myself. Regardless of how I look, I am so grateful for the gift of my body and what it is capable of. More than that, I'm grateful for what it is capable of becoming.

I'm now a runner.

Next goal: 5 miles.