One of the things I’ve decided to devote myself to, in my course to get back to finding myself again, is getting back into my running training. And I’m not gonna lie to you. After taking the last few years off, learning how to be a wife and a stepmom and getting into the swing of things and how busy my life is now? Getting back into running after so many years without it is pure hell. When I pulled that treadmill out early this week and hopped up on it, turned a show on (seriously, if there’s any show out there that will make you feel guilty sitting on your ass eating popcorn while watching it, it’s “the Walking Dead”.), and I turned that treadmill on and power-walked ten miles? I thought my legs were going to fall the hell off.
Coming down after such a long run, having a pick me up wind-down snack after burning so many calories, my eyelids drooping, I heard voices in my head as I lay there. Voices telling me I was too old for this crap, that I was too far out of practice and shape for this crap, that I’m a wife now, a mom now, that I don’t have to worry about this kind of crap. And with my legs aching and every bit of me feeling like it weighed a million pounds– feeling weak– my hair soaking wet, my body drenched in sweat, the smallest part of my brain might have believed it. But then I reminded myself that I’d just gone ten miles, even after so many years off. And that yeah, I was tired (let’s be honest, I was beyond tired), and I knew I’d be sore the next day (Oh God, so unbelievably sore haha), but I’d done it. No one else had coached me, no one else nagged me. I did it, on my own, because I wanted to do it.
And I slept better that night than I had in years. Which, as a chronic insomniac, meant a hell of a lot to me. I woke up in the morning feeling incredible. Sore as hell, in need of ice packs and wanting to put my feet up, but I felt accomplished. And yeah, it was only ten miles, but it was something. And even a little something is far better than nothing.
That night, I queued up the blu ray again, and I was back up on the treadmill again, telling myself I’d walk another ten miles. Not running, not out to give myself a heart attack or asthma attack, just walking, decent conversational-type pace, and see how I felt (At my size, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna hop up there and start running. I’m driven, goal-oriented, not crazy.)
I got so caught up in what I was watching that after awhile, I stopped watching the digital readout on my treadmill, and when I found myself looking down, I was surprised when I realized how far I’d walked without realizing it. The ten miles I’d done the previous night felt like nothing now as I stood there, staring down at those numbers, still walking, and yeah, I was sweating from the pace I’d kept, yeah I power-walked the whole way, but I knew I wasn’t done yet.
I went another mile that night before I stopped. And it felt good. It felt like progress.
I’ve been at it for over a week now, just power-walking, not trying to outdo Olympians or professional athletes, just going by how I feel and making sure I don’t push too hard. I’m in it for the long haul. If I overdo it, looking for the quick fix, and I hurt myself, I won’t be doing myself any favors.
I’ve lost weight already this week, and my pants are getting looser. And I’m sleeping better than I’ve slept in years. And yes, it means less time at the keyboard, working on my writing, and it means getting even more creative with my scheduling between looking after my family, my household, my pets, sleeping, writing, running, blogging and youtubing, but as I find myself now beginning to find balance between all the aspects of my life, and as I find myself recovering more of who I am now, I find myself finding peace more and more easily in each and every aspect of my life, which in turn lends peace and balance in all the other aspects of my life in ways that I haven’t found in a very long time.
It feels good. It feels like control, empowerment, accomplishment. It feels like cresting that damnable mountain and picking up speed as I find myself coming down the other side.
And damn, does it feel good.