I decided to join my husband and father-in-law on Saturday for their weekly run, one that I have participated in for years. It had been 5 weeks since baby, and I was so excited to get out and back at it again (even though it was cold as balls outside and I am a complete wimp when it comes to winter weather).
The boys were going to do a 7km loop, which was fine with me- I was just looking to get out for myself and waddle slightly faster than a turtle at medium speed. My goal was to complete four 5-minute run intervals with a 1-minute walk interval in between each, for a total of 23 minutes.
|This photo was not from the weekend. You can tell because in this photo, I'm 1) wearing makeup 2) skinny and 3) smiling.|
The intervals went a little something like this:
Interval 1 (00:00-05:00): Woo hoo! I'm running again! I feel a little strange, and I'm scared to let go of this giant Kegel, but I'm running again! Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Interval 2 (06:00-11:00): My uterus feels strange. Am I peeing? I am running slow. That is okay.
Interval 3 (12:00-17:00): How in F's name is 5 minutes so F'ing long?
Interval 4 (18:00-23:00): Where is the finish line to the ultra marathon that I just ran? I'm going to need the race's team of paramedics to carry me home.
You catch my drift. It was freaking hard.
I've had hard runs before. Times when I was out of shape, feeling
It made me feel exceptionally humble. Picking up an exercise regime is hard enough, and sticking to it is harder. Instead of giving up and thinking "that run was too hard, I'll never do that again!" (which, by the way, I totally get), I need to think "that run was hard, but I have nowhere to go but up!" (which is the annoying fitness instructor deep down inside me).
I challenge you to do the same. When something is hard, it will be even more rewarding once you kick the crap out of it. For example, when I give up eating Mini Eggs as full meals, I will have a hotter bod, I will feel good about myself and wear tighter clothes, and my husband will want to make out.
Wait- that's how I got into this mess in the first place. Shit.
Anyways you catch my drift. Don't give up. Even if you are so sore the next day that you can't sit down; you need one of those old-person travelling seats to walk down the stairs; you need a full-time nanny to watch your child because you can't bend down and pick them up; your gait resembles that of a teenage rapper; and the thought of working out again makes you want to vomit.
Not that I've ever felt that way.
Have you ever had a run where you felt like garbage?