I'm tired. REALLY tired. Want to crawl back in bed and forget the whole day tired. Why? It's been more than four months, but this morning I finally did it. I got up early, laced up my new running shoes and headed out the door. I didn't know if I could do the whole two miles but if I'm going to do that half triathlon in September (and I AM going to do it--I'm cheap and the 90 bucks I spent to register will NOT be spent in vain!), I've got to start where I am, a pretty pitiful place, and push on from there. Yesterday I did a six mile bike ride, also the longest since last fall. It was tough, but I refused to walk up the hills--just kept downshifting. Sidenote: I've REALLY got to find me a road bike. My bike is beautiful and it's gotten me into biking--something I hadn't done since grade school, but it's heavy and I can no longer get it to shift into first gear (granny gear as my biking buddy calls it). I'm sure it just needs some adjustments, but I have no idea how to do it and since I still haven't bought a bike rack, I have no way to get it to the bike shop-short of biking there and I haven't yet got the guts to walk into the bike shop, out of breath, sweaty, chubby me, and ask them to fix the thing.
Anyway, back to this morning. I walked out my door and found a smidge of rain. Not much, just sort of spitting really. I almost turned around and went back inside, but I decided to just go a little way and see what happened. I could always turn back if the rain picked up. Soon I was to the corner where I usually start jogging (can I use the word usually when I haven't done this since fall?). I kicked it in gear and soon, very soon, I felt that whimper-I-can't-do-this-really-I'm done-can't-go-any-farther feeling that always comes a few minutes into a run. From past experience I know that if I keep going, push through it, it gets easier, but oh, my goodness, I wanted to stop. So I gritted my teeth and pumped my arms more as my running buddy has taught me. No buddy this morning, so I had to do something to keep my mind occupied and keep it off of all the physical difficulties involved. I started reciting (in my head, I was gasping too hard for anything audible) various memorized church things (songs, articles of faith, etc) The mental exercises made the hills not quite as noticeable, still tough, but doable when my mind was struggling to figure out what comes next. Eventually, after reciting everything twice, I realized that I was actually getting close to the two mile mark! When I stopped I felt like I was going to collapse right there, in front of the subdivision pool, with all the commuters heading out for the morning watching, but I just kept putting one jello leg in front of the other until I got to my front door.
So, now I'm tired, really tired. But there's something very emotionally satisfying about taking this out of shape, pitiful, 25 lbs heavier than when I reached my weight watcher goal, 44 year old body and proving to myself that I still have some determination and will-power. Tomorrow I'll be stiff and running won't become fun for a few more weeks. But I'm gonna get there. Now if only I could find a way to be determined during the afternoon munchies.