My first run
Also known as week 1 Day 1 of the C25k program.
Now, this is not my first attempt at trying to become “a runner”, but you can read all about that tale in another post. This IS, however, the first time I made the very conscious decision to stick it out and really go for it.
I spent quite a few days – ok, weeks – psyching myself up for this. I made a promise to myself that if I finished the program and ran an entire 5k without stopping and I still hated running, I never had to run again unless I was being chased by something bad or trying to escape an avalanche or other fast-moving natural disaster.
The night before, I made sure I had the app loaded (C25K from Zen labs in this case), a playlist or two ready on my phone, shoes were laced, clothes laid out, and my alarm was set for 4:30 am.
Yes, 4:30 am.
Since running has always been a huge block for me, I figured going out before even the small woodland creatures are venturing out of their dens might let me be out there alone where no one can see me. I went to bed early, filled with trepidation.
4:30 am comes very early if you are not used to getting up at that time. I put on my running outfit for the day, fed my dog, then set out – with Shadow the wonderpup. Hindsight tells me that was not the best buddy to take along on this endeavor.
We walked a bit so he could do his thing, which also served as a little warm up for me. Then after a deep breath, I clicked START on the app and off we went.
Well, I tried to go. Shadow decided to add extra pauses in our training by sniffing every damned tree, bush, fencepost, blade of grass he passed. He would run along side me well enough for a bit, then beeline for the latest addition to the scented conversation on the fire hydrant. He was being a dog, and I was getting more and more frustrated with it all.
The first intervals are running 60 seconds, then walking 90 seconds. Repeat 8 times.
Eight times.
The first interval went well enough. Second was tolerable. Anything after that was lost in a haze of reining in Shadow, attempting to breathe, trying not to fall, and looking around to make sure no one could see me. It seriously felt like each minute had evolved into 10 minutes. I even checked the app screen to see if I had goofed and flicked it to a later week or something. Nope. It was all in my head.
By the 6th interval, my sole focus was “don’t die.”
Not because, you know, I’d be dead, but that someone would find my overweight self lying on the side of the road with Shadow wandering somewhere nearby and they would think “What on earth was she thinking? She has no business out here trying to run.”
Again, more concerned about being seen running than dying. The mind is a treacherous thing, my friends.
I heard the voice tell me to walk just as I had reached a curb and Shadow saw a bunny. The combination wasn’t a good one and I ended up misjudging the height of the curb and down I went. I felt utterly humiliated.
Great. Fat Girl down. Was my thought.
I yelled at poor Shadow, taking my complete frustration at myself out on my sweet dog. (I gave him extra treats later to apologize -and probably a few meat scraps)
After looking around to make sure no one saw me and finding, to add to the self loathing I had going on, that there was indeed a man about a block away who had to have witnessed the wipeout. I got up and changed direction so I wouldn’t pass him, and finished out the run.
I’m not going to lie. It sucked.
After letting myself back into the house, I was so grateful it was done. I gave Shadow his apology cookie and went to shower.
Luckily, showers hide tears.
I wanted to quit that day and almost did except I had made the commitment to myself to keep trying. I couldn’t get any worse at this running thing, could I? Odds are, this was going to be the “worst” run barring an injury, and I made myself commit to going out again in two day’s time.
Though I decided that it might be better to leave my dog at home – at least until I got better at this and he was a little less “wayward” on leash.
We are ALL beginners at one point. Even a concert pianist struggled playing chopsticks the first time, and Julia Child burned a few dishes when she first started.
The important lesson is to keep at it.
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