Run For Your Life!

I did something today that I am so stinking proud of.
Well, now that I think about it, I've done several things that I'm so stinking proud of...

I went to Weight Watchers this morning even though I knew my WW buddy would most likely not be there today.
(Hope you're doing okay buddy!  I'll see you next week!)

And, I lost 1.6 lbs this week - the day AFTER my class had its Valentine Party complete with make-your-own sundaes, of which I happily partook.

But the thing I'm really proud of myself today is this:  I RAN.
On the treadmill.
At the gym.
Without falling down.
Or passing out.
Both of which I was fairly certain I was going to do.

Now, this isn't necessarily the first time I've ever run, but it is the first time I've ever done it at the gym IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE.

I'll admit, there was some trepidation at first.
In addition to the aforementioned fears of falling off or passing out, I was certain someone was going to walk by and give me the "what in the world is she doing on there" kind of look.  I also had a deep-seated fear that I was going to actually break the machine and have to pay oodles of dollars for repairs.  Happily, neither of those events took place.

No one looked at me weird.  Or if they did, I was so lost in my own thoughts of "BREATHE!  BREATHE!" that I didn't really pay any attention to the people around me, so it was all good.

And BONUS! the machine did not crumble into chunks of metal and plastic beneath my feet.  Yea!

Just in case I have not expressed it properly, this is a big deal to me.  I am not a runner.  I do not run.  I don't even like to move that quick if I can help it.  But deep down inside of me is a thin girl who wants to be a runner someday, and today I let her have her way a little bit.

So, down the brass tacks of how this all came about, because a 256 lb. person does not just up and decide to run and then go do it.  It just doesn't happen like that.

I've been noticing for a couple of months that my beautiful, black Nike tennis shoes are wearing out a little bit.  My socks peek out of a couple holes in them, which is fine when I'm wearing black socks, but a little conspicuous when I'm not.  So, I need new shoes.  What's the big deal you ask?

Well, I bought those shoes to run in.
And I did run in them.
ONCE.
I went running one time at the park, and it was so hard on me, that I gave up.

So now that I'm facing the fact that I need to replace them, I'm filled with some guilt about never really using them for their intended purpose.

I've heard that running on a treadmill is easier than actually running outdoors, so I thought I'd give it a try.

That was about a month ago.

It takes me awhile to get my courage up, I guess.
Or maybe I can put a positive spin on it and say I don't like to rush into things.  I'd rather check out all the options first before doing something drastic (like exercise).  I make calm and cool, calculated decisions.
Okay, that's all a bunch of crap.  The truth is I was a scared little chicken shit.  I can be honest.

So, for a month I've been tentatively checking out the treadmills.  I'd get on one for awhile before doing my tried-and-true workout on the elliptical.  I might push myself into doing a very fast-paced walk, but never so fast that I was actually jogging or running.  I was just too afraid of what might happen.

Today, I guess the situation was optimal.  I had plenty of time to warm up.  The treadmill I was on was at the end of the row, and partially hidden behind a display, so I didn't have to worry about gawkers as they passed me by.  I got to the gym fairly early so there weren't many people there anyway.  I decided to give it a try.

After a 7 minute warm up (it still took me a few extra minutes to get my nerve up) I decided to crank up the speed and give it a go.

And go I did.

I pushed that baby as far as I could, sweating and sucking wind like there was no tomorrow.  Legs pumping.  Arms flailing.  I was focused and intense.

For all of one minute.

That's right my friends, I pushed it to the limit.

And then I took a two minute walking break and decided to try it again.

For another minute.

And then some more walking, and then some more running.  I kept it up for over 30 minutes.  And I'm really proud of myself.

For those of you who can run and have never been overweight...I'm not sure why you're reading this blog, you must be lost.  But on your way out, keep your judgey thoughts to yourself.  Getting a fat girl to run is nothing short of a miracle.

And now, I believe in miracles.