I have found something I like about running.
It feels good to stop; I feel good about having done it. I've read blogs about runners who crave running, who miss it if they don’t do it. Bah. Fools. Okay, maybe not fools, just people with a different mindset than mine. Or maybe their bodies have been so accustomed to the exercise that if they don’t get their Fixx they go into withdrawal?
One other thing I like about running. I like being able to say “oh, yes, I went running today.” It’s not strictly true: I start out running, with a bold, confident stride that eats up the trail. By the end of the session, however, I’m shuffling along like a little old lady who’s misplaced her walker. It averages out to jogging, but don't tell anyone. Claiming to be a runner puts me in a category with thin, fit, active people. I like being there, and I paid my admittance fee by huffing and puffing and making it around the course anyway.
Okay, one bonus like. I like that I can get a workout in 40 minutes that would take me a lot longer if I were riding a bicycle. Not sure if my knees are going to continue to agree with me about that one, though. So far, no complaints. We'll see. (Or to be more accurate, I'll hear. My knees can speak quite loudly if the occasion demands.)
You're braver than I am. I know—have always known—that I will never, ever be a runner. Even when I get down to my goal weight, I'll still be shaped like the earth mother that I am rather than like a runner. And being big-breasted doesn't help me want to run; there's a huge bounce factor to deal with that sports bras attempt to deal with by smooshing large breasts uncomfortably into a unibreast.
I'm so impressed by you and your dedication.
You know how I said I was going to start the running program this week? That's gone straight to pot. I'm not even sure I can promise for next week since next Friday is my d-day--dreaded conference paper day. I have to present and I'm going to be hella nervous.
So, definitely the week after that. The week of the 18th. When my life goes back to the usual stress and anxiety. I swear in front of you and anyone else reading these comments that I will start the beginning runner's program that week.
Nov. 18 will now be called Carpe Diem day. Although that name is a bit redundant....
I changed my routine this morning. I got up, fed the zoo, put on track pants and had my tutor session. My inner slug suggested I turn on the laptop while I waited for the tutor but I resisted. I brushed my teeth instead. Looked at myself in the mirror and said, "You deserve more than an Inner Slug. Ky deserves more than an Inner Slug." SO I shrguged into a hoodie and running shoes, grabbed the dog and his ball launcher and ran from the house before the Inner Slug could rouse itself enough to protest.
Thanks Mary for the constant inspiration. Ky thanks you too.
Katharine, you don't need to jog! You keep losing weight quite nicely with your power walking. I'm jealous.
Christina, I like the idea of holding yourself to a date when you'll start. And remember, it's only 30 minutes every other day or so. Hopefully that's not too huge a chunk of time. I am crossing my fingers that you kick ass on this presentation.
Keziah -- yeah!!! applause, cheers, excessive Snoopy dancing Good for you. I love the idea of catching the slug off guard :)
I'm stuck in the middle somewhere between power walking and jogging. I can only jog about 1/4 of a mile at a time, it takes time but I'll get there...my reasons...the same as yours, I want to say "oh I went running today"
Stopping is most definitely the best thing about running.
Perhaps more "Finishing" than stopping, at least for me. I like the feeling when I am finished, whether it's a race or just a training run.
I wish I could like running but I never have. probably because I dont have arches in my feet so its hard to run and run fast. I used to hate gym when we had to run. I commend you!
you mean the runner's high after? :P
you're sooo hooked already.
don't deny it!
I read this post and the one about 2 things you hate about running. Both great! I think it took me a year to get my breathing down. And I still struggle with it at times...
A year? Oh well, so long as I get there.
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