Runner Girl
Updated: Aug 16, 2020
Exercise. It’s touted as one of the best anti-depressants. And I can attest to that. All it takes is one workout, and I feel soo much better!
When I first lost a large amount of weight at 35, I would walk for 45 minutes, 4-5 times a week. I wanted to run but I had convinced myself that I couldn’t do it. This is because my sister was an excellent runner, and my parents are of the mindset that if you can’t do it really well, you shouldn’t do it at all. The few times I went running with her and my dad left me so discouraged because I couldn’t keep up (obviously) and they wouldn’t wait for me. What made it even harder for me was I had breathing issues and didn’t know it at the time (surgery to fix my deviated septum when I was 30 years old took care of that).
After walking several times a week for months, I was on the treadmill one day and without thinking too much, hit the button to speed it up until I was running. I waited for the inevitable breathlessness to come….but it didn’t. Five minutes, then 10 minutes passed. At 15 minutes, I slowed the treadmill to a fast walk because I was afraid I would hurt myself. But I couldn’t contain the bubbles of excitement inside of me! This was crazy!! I can’t run…or can I??
I started running more on the treadmill, going longer and faster as time went on. When it was spring, I really wanted to run outside. But I was afraid and embarrassed. I can still hear my sister’s laughter at my efforts to run in our neighbourhood. I set my jaw firmly and signed up for a charity 5K run in May. Now I HAD to learn to run outside.
I devised a plan: I would drive to another neighbourhood and go for a jog. No one would recognize me. Perfect! I parked the van and tried to slow my pounding heart. I got out, and started to walk to warm up. When it was time to start running, I couldn’t. I tried to count myself in but would chicken out every time I finished counting. Damn it! I don’t know how many times I counted myself in. I finally gave up and started giving myself pep talks. Still walking. Then I got angry. And that’s when I started to jog. 5 feet, 10 feet…. Still going. I wondered how ridiculous I looked. I tried not to look around too much. Before long, I was breathing hard (running outside is NOT the same as on a treadmill), so I was forced to turn my focus to my breathing. I established a good rhythm and kept going. Then something strange happened; I was so focused on my breathing that I wasn’t embarrassed or self-conscious anymore.
The same anxiety and awkwardness greets me every single time I step out of the house for a run (now in my own neighbourhood). But it’s not nearly as bad. I do my warm up walk, and when I start to run, I feel ungraceful and sluggish. I wait… and that need to get my breathing into a rhythm hits. Then I don’t care what I look like anymore.
I saw a woman running in our neighbourhood a few years ago. I remember her every time I run. She was out there, giving ‘er, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, I assume to hold her large breasts down. She was out there running like this, and not giving a shit about how it made her look. You go girl! I told myself, if she can do that unabashedly, then I can damn well run like I do. God bless her!
