So, I decided I would actually attempt to run. Not Wun… but run. This takes a lot of courage for me to do, as you may know from previous posts, and attempts I’ve made.
I planned it out, so I would go to the local high school football field/track at night, and no one would have to watch me look like a moron. Dark night sky=no one can see me.
Unfortunately for me, I guess I didn’t wait until it was late enough, and people were ALL over the track. When I got there, there were runners, walkers, people strolling… and people pushing strollers.
I decided to just start out by walking. The plan was to walk until I was comfortable enough to run. I decided to take my ‘getting comfortable’ time to study the people who were running by me.
One man looked stiff. I knew I felt stiff when I ran, so I watched him to see what NOT to do. Another guy seemed to be gliding across the track, effortlessly. I studied how his feet hit the ground, and how his body moved.
With all of this watching, studying, and observing, I felt like I was finally ready. It only took FIVE laps around the track to get to this point.
I start out running, trying to pace myself to conserve my energy, so I can make it all the way around the track without stopping. I get around the first turn, and I’m proud of myself, but I’m actually dying. My lungs are already burning, and my legs feel stiff. In fact, all I kept thinking was that my legs weren’t moving fast enough for my body, and at some point I would be falling on my face. Never mind that, but I couldn’t help but think about how heavy my legs felt, slamming against the ground.
Second turn, and I’m half way there. This is when I start talking to myself.
‘You can do this!’
‘You’re going to be so proud of yourself!!’
‘If you keep going, you can say that you did it without stopping!’
‘Keep moving your feet, and you won’t fall’
‘You don’t look as stupid as you think you do’
‘You are so damn athletic! Look at you go!’
These words of affirmation for myself lasted a whole half of a side of the track. I’m almost to the end. I haven’t stopped. I am pretty sure I’m actually dying. I know that if I make it to the end, without stopping, I will have accomplished a serious victory in my world.
I near the end of the track, back to where I started running, in the first place. I had made it. Some how, I made it. I stop and grab my water. I’m feeling successful, and incredibly athletic, I hobble to the benches and plop down. I then proceeded to google what the distance is for one lap around a typical football field track… for science.
When I got home, I started explaining this entire adventure to Mike. He just sat silently, and listened to me. At one point, when I was talking about my observations of other runners, his face kind of twisted up, and if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure he slightly rolled his eyes.
At the end of my story time, he looked at me and said, ‘You’re ridiculous.’
“Why?!” I asked
“Because you studied other runners…. what is wrong with you?” and then he laughed in my face.
*SIDE NOTE: The week after this running extravaganza, Mike and I were driving, and we saw a man running. I made a comment about how he looked kind of uncomfortable. Mike agreed, and mentioned that the man looked like he was landing hard on his feet all while aggressively kicking his legs back… and then proceeded to question if THAT’S what I look like, when I run. Nope, I’m pretty sure I look like a toddler learning to walk for the first time.
So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m not a runner.
90% sure that I took this PRIOR to running… when I was
still full of life, and hope, and promise.