Leaping Over Hurdles

Since I am used to journaling in private -- where my perfectionist self doesn’t have to worry about anyone else seeing my imperfections -- blogging has really taken me outside of my comfort zone. I am taking this whole experience as a lesson in letting go and learning to relinquish some control. Sharing my experiences is nearly as uncomfortable as the last 1K of every run, and that makes me feel like I am doing something right.

On that note, I have a confession to make: I was supposed to run last Tuesday. But unfortunately the thought of moving any muscle in my body was too painful. In the event that I had no choice but to bend down, I counted to ten and exhaled from my gut like an old woman. I even surrendered a loonie to the streets of Vancouver because the thought of exerting myself to pick it up was too terrifying to bear (those who know me know I would go completely out of my way for an abandoned loonie. Who am I kidding? A quarter would suffice).

So I found myself having to squeeze in a workout before work on Wednesday to make up for the missed session.  As the alarm went off for a running and yoga combo, I found myself making a mental list of every excuse in the book. Everyone will understand. I have to work all day. It’s cold. My iPod isn’t fully charged. The reasons to avoid my workout played in my mind like a broken record until I got an email that brought them to a screeching halt.

My mom had just read the post about my running goals in the West 4th store’s weekly product notification. She emailed me to let me know how impressed she was, signing off with a simple, all-caps, WOW!  Well, damn it, Mom. Now I have to run.

And all the excuses began to melt away. Even though my pretty pink Nano was dead, I did still have a music source. I dug out my first generation iPod shuffle. My playlist may be as old as the player itself and my headphones may only have one working ear bud, but me, and a very crackly Britney Spears, went on a run.

And it felt amazing. I don’t mean that running itself felt amazing; I am nowhere near enjoying the actual act of running. But the fact that I was doing it, that I got my butt in motion, felt amazing. Aside from calculating the fact that I have approximately a million more runs ahead of me, I am taking it one step at a time.  I returned home huffing and puffing with pride. Today the only thing on my body that is not sore are my fingers… hence the blog. I will keep you posted.

A Leap of Faith

When my manager proposed the idea of training for five months to run the lululemon SeaWheeze half marathon, I wondered if she knew me at all. I am not a runner.  My relationship with the treadmill has been rocky at best. We commit, and then one of us -- I blame the machine -- always seems to give up well before the relationship is even given a fair chance.

And what kills me is that I have always wanted to be a runner. Correction: I have always wanted to be one of those blonde, waif-like, long-legged gazelles that seem to float as they run by you, without a single bead of sweat, and a smile that says, I legitimately love running. For some reason I always picture these women as blondes, most likely because that makes them my absolute antithesis.

So there we sat, my manager and I, across from each other in the back room. She examined my handwritten goals with the same tenacity that a palm reader studies your hands, and the verdict was in. She determined that my passion for our company and love of community (lululemon speak for marketing/PR) meant that I should be the SeaWheeze half marathon rep for the west fourth store.

I knew that saying yes meant there would be no turning back, because unlike my on again/off again relationship with the treadmill, dedication to work actually means something. So I decided to do something that scares me senseless. I took a deep breath and whispered, yes. I was immediately struck by a simultaneous jolt of excitement and terror. What did I just agree to? I don’t even run to catch the bus! My internal critic began berating and lamenting my decision.

But that was in December, and now that it’s February I have had enough time to digest my commitment and maintain only a slight level of worry. Tomorrow is the first day of our running clinic and I believe the things that will get me through the first hurdles are an open communication of my ups and downs, support from my community, and constantly patting myself on the back.

Stay tuned!