I have always been fully motivated in whatever my heart is into. I love fully, give fully, I exist in black and white, I’ve never excelled at doing things halfway. In some ways this is great, in other ways it’s a downfall. But be what it may, this is me…its just my personality. So when I re-joined a gym this summer (after a 6 year hiatus-ouch!) I found some new goals quickly as I dove head first into working out. I quickly re-gained the thrill I used to have from lifting heavy, I’ve always loved the challenge of increasing my weights each week or so, so as always, I went all in. I made major gains at first, as I had lost pretty much all my strength (and muscles) and I was loving it. I would throw in some cardio, a little elliptical, a bike ride, or a walk on the treadmill for good measure. I was satisfied with my progress. After some prodding from my best friend I decided to try out the boot camp group class and I convinced her to try spin class with me. I was hooked. I loved the challenge, the change each week, and I could do a LOT less than I thought. I had no endurance. As I began to go regularly, week in and week out, I noticed I could do a little more each week.
Fast forward a month or two. I have always wanted to try to run, but every time I got started it looked like this: lace up shoes, decide I am going for a run, head out and start running, less than 2 minutes later I am panting like I’d just finished the olympic sprint event and swearing that I’ll never run again. This same scene has replayed year after year. My knees would scream, my hips hurt, and my lungs were on the verge of bursting. I was fully convinced I couldn’t be a runner. They were an elusive athletic type and anyone who knows me knows that Jackie and athletic are laughable in the same sentence. I’ve always secretly harbored a jealousy for those who could just pop on shoes and go. It seems so freeing, so stress-relieveing, so unattainable for me. So, here I am spinning away several times a week, attending boot camp 2-3 times a week and building endurance. On the prompting of a friend who asks “let’s go for a run” one day, I decided I’d join her, but made her fully aware that I not only didn’t run, but I couldn’t. Well that day I made it 4.6 miles. The LONGEST I’d ever run in my life. Now, to say it was easy or enjoyable, I can not. I was sucking air and cursing my legs the whole way. BUT, I made it. Thus began the brewing in my head of MAYBE, just maybe I can learn to run.
And so it began. A few days, a few runs (at my own pace) and I was finding pure pleasure in the abilities of my feet and legs to carry me. Since I’d already passed of a 5K distance, I wanted to find a challenge, a goal to work towards, so I picked a 10K. Then upon realizing that was within reach I signed up for a half marathon….and true to Jackie form, that I can do nothing half way, I might have signed up for THREE of them…one in February, one in March and one in April.
So here we go….this begins my new journey. One I never thought possible or within reach….and now it is mile by mile becoming a reality. I have reached a point where I crave the run and can’t wait for the next. I’m still 10 weeks out from my first 13.1, but each week, each mile covered is getting me closer. I’m crazy, I know, but at least I’m only HALF crazy 🙂 We won’t talk about what might be next….I don’t need any ideas!