Confessions of a Running-Hater

My new running shoes laden with magnolia blooms I find on my runs around my neighborhood.  Maybe if I actually stuff them with flowers, they might smell better than sweaty socks?

Alarm beeps...

Snooze button hit...

Alarm beeps again, this time, in a more annoying tone...

Ugh...I roll out of bed...stumble downstairs...

The coffee pot that leaks starts up while I do my morning stretches (aka: the things I do simply not to fall over because I have yet to ingest caffeine)...

After fixing my cup, I meet with Jesus...and hey, to be honest, I check my Facebook feed for the first of many times each day...

Then...I run.

*Cough, sputter*  What?

Yes, the pigs have flown, and the bullet has been bitten...I started running.  I am currently in denial that it is actually happening.  I don't like running!

But...I have a friend, Wendy, who is a self-proclaimed running-hater that is currently training to run a marathon this December.  She brought up running last year during a time of fellowship at the S-clan's house and I was like, "What?  Whatever!  No thank you!..."  So mature, I know.

She claimed that her walk-to-run program made her into a running convert and I was skeptical.  I hate running, after all, but not walking.  Hey, I can walk the neighborhood with my kids like any other mom.  Walk up hill?  Sure!  But, I'll fake that I am not actually huffing and puffing the whole way up. 

After actually starting a push-up regimen that hasn't left me feeling like a complete exercise loser, I started opening up to doing some kind of regular aerobic exercise.  As long as it did not involve me trying to emulate Jillian Michaels in front of my living room TV, I was up for it.  Hey, she's got great abs and everything else, but I think I might have a serious heart attack if I try to move at her speed. 

So, a few weeks ago, I actually started it.  The 8-week program starts off slow, and the end goal is to be able to run for 30 minutes straight with no walking (or falling on the ground in sheer exhaustion) breaks.  So far, I am in week two and I feel like I am going to die every day...but it is getting better. 

For more seasoned runners, it may seem like a piece of fat-free angel food cake, but for me, I am getting my rear-end kicked around the block.  This is all proving one thing that I have been seriously dreading owning up to: being in shape doesn't just "happen"...you actually have to do something about it.  I may seem like I can do my day-to-day tasks with no problem physically, but in twenty years, will I be able to keep up this same endurance? 

And, most importantly, if I ever do actually get to be on the Amazing Race (a fake dream I only have between me, myself and I, and now...you) - will I be that girl who is huffing and puffing on the side of the road while her husband tells her "This is for a million dollars, baby!  Why are you resting NOW?" 

Yes, these are the thoughts that run through my head.

I may never be a marathon-runner or an Amazing Race contestant (I'll skip the drama, thank you!), but I want to run around with my grand kids and also having a fighting chance at raising this metabolic-rate that is slowing with. every. stinkin'. year.  I am not 15 anymore.  When did I miss that memo?

Want to join the program with me? (Click here to read more)  Want to cheer me on?  Or, want to tell me how I am going to ruin my knees and you're gonna send me Bengay in the mail and a note telling me I am a crazy loon?  Leave a comment below: