After a emotional Thursday night spin class with my BFF instructor, Holly, where I reflected on my journey and literally sobbed through Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter”, I decided I wanted to tackle number one with a bullet on my Summer Bucket List: run an entire mile.
I’ve been half-heartedly doing Couch-2-5K over the past few months, but I haven’t run in almost month. And I’ve only ever run outdoors, whereas this attempt was going to be done at the gym on a treadmill–one of my bigger fears throughout this journey.
Why? Well, I know it’s stupid, but: I don’t want to run on a treadmill because I am afraid that, being a rather–ahem–large girl, things would be jiggling like crazy and I’d be so loud stomping away with my fat legs on the treadmill and maybe even break the machine but definitely get looks from everyone around me and distract everyone with my insanely heavy breathing/wheezing.
Whew! Exhausting thinking, right?
I spent all day yesterday getting pumped up for my mile run. I kept telling myself, “You can totally do this, no problem.” I kept thinking about how awesome I would feel afterwards, remembering how amazing I felt after my emotional spin class the previous night. The self-talk was all positive and I was loving it. I even shared the update with all my lovelies on Twitter and a few friends and family, to hold myself even more accountable.
When I got to the gym, I was pumped. Super tired and very sore, feeling heavy and surprisingly very nervous, but pumped. Instead of hiding out on the treadmill in the back corner of the gym, I hopped on a machine smack in the middle of the pack–staring creepy men and skinny bitch assholes watching my jiggly bits be damned!
After a quick five minute warm-up, I bumped up the incline to 2, the speed to 5.0 and started pumping my arms. Quickly realizing this was not a pace at which I could sustain myself, I knocked it down a bit.
And then I ran.
I felt my butt and thighs jiggling, but I felt my feet authoritatively smacking the treadmill belt. I felt my breath catching in my chest, but I willed myself to get it under control–in through the nose, out through the mouth. After three minutes, I felt myself wanting to give up, but I reminded myself that this challenge is more mental than physical.
And I ran.
With five minutes of straight running under my belt, I started to get dizzy. So I slowed my pace a bit more. The dizzy feeling remained, so I took a short walk break and then knocked out another two minutes. I was now over half a mile, but ready to give up. I felt lousy, I was uncomfortable, and frankly, I had a giant wedgie
So I stopped.
I briskly walked the rest of the mile, then headed over to my buddy the elliptical to knock out a grueling half hour of intervals.
Was I disappointed? Sure. Defeated? Absolutely not. Old Manda Kay would have been devastated not hitting this goal the first time out, embarrassed that she’d made it all so public and hadn’t accomplished it. New Manda Kay? I’m inspired to keep moving. I know where I’m at, and I know what I need to do to get to where I want to be. I have the rest of the summer to get there.
Mostly I’m just extremely proud that I:
1. Ran on a treadmill for the first time.
2. Ran my longest distance yet.
3. Ran for my longest time yet.
It’s the little things that eventually make the big things. I’m making progress, I am making my life here. Slowly, but surely. It’s all happening right now.