To tell the truth, I’ve never been particularly athletic or fit. I’ve always been klutzy, prone to accidental self-injury, and not interested in very many sports. The activities I was interested in as a child never suited me. Gymnastics? Too tall, too uncoordinated, and too afraid of gravity and breaking my skull open. Volleyball? Arms too spindly and weak. Swimming? Well, it helped that I didn’t have to deal with the effects of gravity, but I wasn’t particularly fast, and there was that one time I swam into the pool wall face-first because I had my eyes closed and misjudged the distance. Ahem. Also, see previous note about spindly, weak arms.
Anyways, a few years back, thanks to the persuasive powers of a good friend, I started running, and although I can hardly believe it myself, I loved it. Naturally, I injured myself, and so running became an on again, off again activity for me. Fast forward to February of this year when I picked it up yet again, then to April when I started a brand new fitness project. I didn’t tell very many people about it, because I wasn’t sure I would be able to do what I wanted to, but I decided that I was going to start exercising every single day and keep it up for 30 days. In between my three running days a week, I started doing pilates, power yoga, and Jillian Michaels videos (ow, y’all). Some days (like when I got the flu in May) I managed 15 minutes of weight lifting and crunches, and then collapsed in an achey heap. Other days, I did close to an hour of exercise. Most days, though, it was 30-40 minutes of something, and all I cared about was that I did something. I was tired of feeling weak, I wanted to do more strength and resistance work to make sure I didn’t get hurt running again, and I wanted to prove to myself I could do it. You guys, I did it for 116 days before I stopped. Last week, we went on a mini-vacation to Florida to visit some lovely friends, and not only was it too ungodly hot and humid to do anything outside, I was just having too much fun sipping sangria with my girls and thought I deserved a little break. I took a 6-day hiatus, and I started back up with a 2.5 mile run yesterday. No, I’m not breaking any distance or land-speed records, but I feel stronger, my muscles have more definition, and my endurance has improved dramatically, and that’s all I care about. I’m going to do at least 116 more days this time around, and I’m going to see how much farther I can get.
So yeah, this isn’t the most interesting post I’ve ever written, but you know, I’m proud of myself, and I wanted to pat myself on the back a bit. And also, if I can do it I know you can, too. Yeah, it’s hot out there. It’s hard to make the time. But if you can get through 7 days, then two weeks, then three weeks, you eventually don’t want to quit because you’ve come this far and you may as well keep going because it makes you feel really good. At least that’s how it worked for me.
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