Again! One, two, three...

I've got a smile in my step again.
Day two of week one was a total success tonight.
Decided to take the route we tried on night one with only some minor downhill action,
needless to say I've figured out what was the cause of my extreme shin pain.
We started out late tonight, sometime after 11:15.
The brisk walk was 7 minutes instead of 5 but that didn't hamper my mood.
Something in me was ready to run tonight and instead of jogging I took off like a bat out of hell.
It felt like my legs were in control, and I was awed at how fast I could fly.
I reminded myself shortly thereafter, during a cramp in my side, that there is a reason we let the logic take the wheel.
I tried to slow down during my next few "runs" but the speed was still in me, slowing ever so slightly each time I began. The walks seemed less comforting, and I'm sure my sonic boom had a lot to do with that, but I just kept going.
I wasn't bothered with pain my legs tonight; cramping, nausea and trouble breathing though- I had my fair share. But I used the trick I learned on my first night, I used the focus.
The full moon was shining down on me, deep golden orange and encouraging me every step of the way. The shadows of my legs seemed to stretch on for miles, my feet gaining on them with every stride. I thought of my breath, my feet, the sweat trickling down my back, and the moon guiding my path. The focus doesn't just stop you from noticing the pain, it completely disperses it. It isn't like a 500 mg dose of acetaminophen, or a heating pad on a cramping stomach. Its like a moment of true zen, the motion of the world slowed to a breathless crawl and the only sound that matters is the pounding of your shoes on the pavement.
I was surprised when my partner said we were almost done, seeing as I hadn't had the breath to ask halfway through. Two more jogs got me home, my zen fading and my feet gaining roughly a metric ton.
When I came in the door I must have paced my kitchen 20 times regaining my breath enough to tell my husband that I was indeed alright. He smiled as he saw me covered in sweat and pointed out each part of my hoodie that had turned a dark gray. I grinned along and patted myself on the back, an affirmation of my self confidence.
There is no question about my plan for self domination come Tuesday night.
Day 3 is close at hand and I intend to ravish it.

-Lisa

Made of Fail

Week One: Day Two

Not exactly a success.
Started off the night with the 5 minute brisk walk and changed up the route a bit.
Took a right when we should have gone left; "Is that a hill?"
5 minutes turned into 10. *sighs*
I told myself to shrug it off. Forget the time delay and keep on trucking.
I grinned as the pain in my lungs began, the first jog lovingly kicking my ass.
We rounded a corner and my stupid smirk fell... downhill.
Suddenly I could feel my hips jolting with each uncontrolled flat-footed step, and it stank.

We hit a level road again and there was an unusual burn in my lower legs.
I kept pushing and tried to ignore it, focusing on my steadily huffing breaths.
Then there it was, hill number 2.
90 seconds got us up the hill and 40 got us down... shins screaming all the way.

I asked again at the 10 minute mark how far along we were,
(I guess one of my superhuman abilities is being able to pinpoint the exact halfway point in a period of time), I knew at that point I was going to push, but I wasn't going to make it.
My feet refused to pick up the way I wanted them to, brushing the ground with each step.
After nearly tripping a good number of times, we had finally turned in the direction of home and I knew it couldn't be too long now.
And then, as if to be a sign from the heavens, I felt my left shin pull awkwardly, an electric pain racing up to my hip. (There is the moment of epic fail folks)
I simply had to stop. My leg could no longer take what I was doing- and it disagreed with my "Let's just get home" idea.
I croaked at 15 minutes, 75% of the way through day two of the C25K and proceeded to hobble 4 long arduous blocks home.

My plan?
Try again. Don't move on until you get it right.
Anything else?
I believe part of my shin issue has to do with my weight, therefore I will be rearranging my current "diet" (by which of course I mean way of eating) to help drop the pounds and hopefully make my running experience as pleasant and exciting as possible.

Today was a success of knowledge- I'll give it that.
Next time- Day Two again.
Gotta get it right.

-Lisa

Doing something about It.

It. Weight.
It. Pain in my hips and shins.
It. Self Loathing.
It. Looking in the mirror with disappointment and regret.
It. Wishing, wanting- whining.

I've been dreaming about who I could be, and what I could feel about myself.
I've had high hopes and crazy aspirations.
Diets have come and gone, exercise videos and positive encouragement too.

Tonight I started the Couch to 5K program (C25k).
I spent 30 minutes outside of my home, in the cool night air- trying not to drop dead on the pavement.
5 minutes of a brisk walk had my shins in pain, the extra oomph in my step too much to handle.
60 seconds of jogging then- and the shins began to scream.
Back to walking, 90 seconds... suddenly this didn't seem so bad.
Jogging again, another minute.
A minute and a half of walking never felt so good.
One foot in front of the other- keep jogging... 60 more seconds.
Walk now... breathe- in through the nose, out through the mouth (my gym teachers should be proud).

Each time I hit my 60 second mark, I felt a surge of pride rush through my body.
"I'm an overweight, inactive, unhealthy woman who just ran a minute!"
(Hey- it may not seem like much to you but this is a HUGE accomplishment for me.)
The 90 seconds of walking in theory seems like too much, "Oh just keep pushing- you only need a minute long rest- let it be equal!" But no, really- the 90 seconds is perfect.
Somewhere between 75 and 90, the body seems to reclaim itself- lungs no longer napalm slathered.
And back to the jog- the 60 seconds of glory.

When we hit 10 minutes I could have sworn my C25k partner was lying through his filthy little teeth,
but reassurance through sporadic breaths and a quick self calculation told me he was being honest.
I couldn't believe I'd been at it for 10 minutes without fail, without a "damn this hurts" or a "I need to sit down". I smiled (goofy as hell I'm sure), and I could feel the pain in my chest lessen. I began to focus on my heartbeat, the rhythm of my drumbeat breathing, the beautiful shadow stretched out before me beckoning forth every ounce of willpower I possessed.

Then I asked- "How.. many... more.... minutes?" staring out down the deserted road.
"Our last minute now..." my partner replied.
For a moment I thought I might cry, joy swelling in me for the simple task of picking up my damn feet.
"How about this- jog home?" He asked.
I croaked a laugh- "I can't promise anything... " I breathed heavily- "But I'll try."
I pushed my chubby little ass 90 seconds and a cramp in my left side but I just couldn't make it home.
I walked the last block still smiling- sweat dripping down my back, arms raised high above my head in glory... and a need to breathe.

The best part?
I feel wonderful.
Something else wicked cool?
I'm writing.
How much better can it get?
I'll let you know what happens the next time I "run".


5k here I come.
-Lisa