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.