13.1 miles of athleticism

Well I have been the worst kind of blogger slacker this last week which isn’t shocking to me given the horrific week I had. I say horrific because it really was one of the worst weeks for me in a very long time. No excuses but I had a lot going on and then to top it off the muscle I pulled in my side on Monday really did bother me all week. I had a great exercise session Monday night but then the pain set in and Tuesday was crap. Wednesday night, despite being my favorite classes was still crap. I was definitely sick and sore and it was crap. Thursday night was even more crap. I tried to rectify the situation by doing a little 3.1 mile run on Thursday. Ultimately this just ended up aggravating my side even more. TOTAL crap. Friday I was in an incredible amount of pain and took the day off from exercise.

Basically, in a nut shell, my last week was physically awful and emotionally it was a train wreck of the worst sort. I really don’t want to talk about it or go into any detail here cause that’s just not what I’m going to do at this point in my life. I can say that things are a little better this week. I can say that I actually have a real life therapy appointment scheduled for this Thursday night to try and work out some of the issues that have been plaguing me and keeping me from emotionally being happy. None of these issues, shockingly, have anything to do with my health or weight, which is so bizarre to me that that is really the least of my concern. Meaning, if it were health or body image or weight related I would freely discuss it here. It is not. It is personal and in such I respect the boundaries of this website and won’t go too much into it.

I actually thought that my mental crap was causing me so much stress that I wasn’t working very hard last week. What actually was preventing me from having the energy/motivation/strength was really my physical pain. Go figure. The week prior to last, I was in a lot of emotional turmoil as well and had a kick ass awesome week health wise. Last week was a rare fluke of a muscle strain really taking its toll on me. In hindsight it was undoubtedly my body telling me to slow down a little. It was forcing me to listen last week.

Net results last week were:
Monday: Run 20 minutes: 2 miles; Personal training, 2 classes, awesome workout 750 calories burned
Tuesday: Pitiful, pitiful attempt, 250 calories burned
Wednesday: 3 (30 minute) classes where I actually felt physically like throwing up because I was not feeling well. 450 calories burned
Thursday: 30 minute Run, which ultimately aggravated the side even more plus some weights 400 calories burned
Friday: Rest Day

Overall, it’s not horrible, but it’s certainly not up to par and walking around in pain really put things into perspective and made me appreciate the health that I generally have. Saturday morning I woke up and I actually felt much better. Physically I felt good for the first time in a week. But I did not want to push it too much so I went to the gym and wanted to test the waters. My mom went with me and we started out with 20 minutes on the stair climber. Nice. Then we ended up doing an hour zumba class. It was good in a pinch because it was what class was being offered but still too much dancing for me as I am really quite retarded when it comes to movement. Afterwards I made my mom do some arm weight lifting. It was a great workout actually. In the end I burned 750 calories and truly felt like it was the best workout I had in a while.

I ended up spending the rest of my day on Saturday running around with my mom. We went to Costco, Pier One, and a few other places. We got frozen yogurt where I suddenly felt the urge to load up on a butt load of essentially ice cream with of course all the delicious horrific toppings of white chocolate chips, animal cookies, coconut. Ya know. But whatever. I still want to live my life.

Now let’s talk about Sunday. Yesterday the stars and the moons aligned into one giant motivation ball that this body hasn’t seen in forever. Like, I must have seriously been bottling up my entire weeks’ worth of motivation and somehow the bottle burst the fuck open yesterday. I really don’t know how else to explain the profound desire and ultimately sheer will that overcame me yesterday. It was the perfect storm as you will of free time meets pure adrenalin meets body feeling recovered.

I woke up and I felt so drastically better that I almost cried out of happiness that there was not pain in my body. I suddenly had all this energy that I swear was missing all week. It was in this moment that I realized that my physical injury clearly was affecting me more than I thought. Yes, I went to the gym all week but I didn’t really work. I was there in body, but not in spirit. Yesterday, I wanted it so bad and I was completely on my own which a great combination is.

We all know that my running has quite drastically tapered off. We all know I am a complete runner at more core. It scares the crap out of me that I don’t run nearly as much as I feel like I should. However, if you read those training guides for marathons or half marathons they really don’t have you running crazy, not even the amounts I was running. It’s something like run 2 miles one day. Next day weights. Run 3 miles next day. Weights the next day. Rest Day. Then a nice longer run. Basically they have you run like 2-3 times a week before a long run. Basically this is what I’ve naturally been doing the past few weeks without realizing it. Last week I ran 2 miles on Monday, then 3.1 miles on Thursday. With strength training mixed in on the other times. The week prior I ran 3.1 miles a couple times. I honestly don’t remember, but I haven’t really done a “long run” in a while. It starts to make me nervous when I don’t get in a nice good solid long run. I have this phobia that somehow my body isn’t going to remember how to run for a long period of time. I used to run at least an hour 5-6 times a week. I just need to make sure every week or so that I can still run for an hour solid. I never wanted to lower my endurance factor.

I think I wrote last Wednesday that I wanted to have a nice long run Sunday afternoon. It was in the back of my mind that I wanted to commit to a long distance run. Of course I had no idea that I could really go for what ended up happening. I was also fearful on Friday that I wasn’t going to be able to run period since I was in physical pain.

When I walked into the gym yesterday, high on feeling well and an energy drink, I decided that I was going to attempt a run. I told myself I would bail at the first sign of pain since I had zero interest in reinjuring myself. I started the treadmill up and went to a 6.4 speed. I was running great. Comfortable. Easy peasy. Honestly some days it’s a struggle to want to run at a 6.0, but 6.4 felt amazing. I honestly felt like I could go for a long while and my side felt great. So I decided to keep running. About half an hour into it I can’t even tell you how amazing I felt. Running is my free therapy. I had really been missing that. I felt so alive and high. So much so that I couldn’t control myself from tweeting about it while running. It really isn’t crazy difficult to tweet and run, you just have to have patience and take your time. I was holding the phone in one hand and using the other to carefully peck at the letters. It takes longer than a normal text would but I had nothing but time :)

Anyway, after 30 minutes I’m like I guess I can go for at least an hour run and see what happens. I was still feeling great so I kept running. After 60 minutes I was 6.5 miles or so into the run and I was still feeling great so I was like what the hell let’s go for 10 miles. Let’s just see if I can hit 10 miles run, in a row without stopping. So I pushed on. Somewhere about 95 minutes or so I hit 10 miles. At this point I was like, you know what, I’ve still got some gas in the tank left and this is the most I really think I’ve ran in one sitting at once at this high of a speed so I am just going to go for the gusto and see if we can’t push thru to 13.1. I mean, I’m at 10, what’s another 3.1 miles anyway? The fact that I still had gas in the tank after 95 minutes of solid running was impressive to me and the significance of what I was doing wasn’t lost on me.

Some days it’s easy to take for granted what I am capable of or what I have accomplished but I knew in the back of my mind that I don’t think I’ve ever really ran for 13.1 miles solid, continual at anywhere near a 6.4 speed. This is unprecedented for me. So I ran. I continued to run. Somewhere around mile 12 my legs started to get heavy and throbby. The last half mile was pure mind over matter, sheer willpower. I wanted to stop, but I finished strong. 13.1 miles, 2 hours 1 minute, 47 seconds to be exact and I had run a half marathon on a Sunday afternoon just because.

No one will ever be able to comprehend the feeling of satisfaction, confidence or excitement one gets over such accomplishments unless you’ve done something yourself. I suspect this is the feeling people get when they complete those triathlons they do, or the races they finish. I have nothing official or no shiny medal to signify my accomplishment. But I have the complete and utter truth and it doesn’t matter that I have no medal or even if another soul ever believes me or not, because I know the truth. I did it and no one will ever be able to take that way from me. I REALLY ran for 2 hours 2 minutes and did 13.1 miles without stopping at a 6.4 on the treadmill. Who can just do that without training or even knowing that is what they are going to do when they first start running? I guess me. I am not one of those gloaty people, but holy shit I feel so proud of the fact that my body can do that. I worked for that. I have earned this body thru sweat and tears, over and over, day in and day out and I have earned that feeling of pride I have over being able to just randomly run 13.1 miles.

Basically, it gives me hope. I live in a fear based world. I fear so much. In the back of my mind I have always been afraid that I couldn’t actually run 13.1 miles. Yes, it’s a treadmill and that still is not running outside with the elements, which I know is harder, but it’s a step. It gives me hope that I can do a half marathon if I wanted. It builds my confidence and that is so important at this point in the game. So I guess I’d say the answer to my questions is yes, yes, I really still can run for an hour without stopping. Nothing about my present fitness routine is actually hindering my endurance or ability to perform long runs. Good to know. I actually suspect that my current activities have helped me in this endeavor after all. I don’t suffer from runners burn-out and therefore really enjoyed every moment of my head-clearing 2 hour run.

After I finished running I wasn’t done with the gym. Not by a long shot. I had an entire afternoon to myself and the only thing I wanted was to push myself and enjoy the physical strength I was feeling. I FINALLY felt good and I wanted to take advantage of it. I went to the weight section and loaded up a barbell and started lifting. I got dumbbells and spent a good deal of time lifting and toning my upper body. I was basically enjoying my physical athleticism in all its glory. It was such a good day for me.

I can’t even put into words how great I felt yesterday and how much I needed the hours of me time at that gym. What exercise does for me mentally is so far beyond anything I have ever experienced in my life. It is my drug. Thank God I don’t do drugs, right. Because I am so addicted to that high of exercise I know I’d get addicted to a drug if I ever did one. Which I won’t. But honestly, my shitty past couple weeks felt so much more manageable after kicking ass in that gym. When all was said and done and I finally told myself I had to leave the gym because I couldn’t spend the entire day there, I had burned 2000 calories. Yes, 2000 calories, probably a personal record for me as well. Completely made up for any self-doubt I was having about my abilities post last week.

I think I really was meant to be a healthy fit girl. I really think this is my true calling. I am never happier or more at peace than when I am exercising feeling those endorphins thru my body. I need this in my life. I need this feeling. This is who I’m supposed to be. I know this.

I am not the same girl I was 10 years ago. I am not even the same girl as I was a couple years ago. We all change and grow and evolve. We outgrow things and people and don’t need stuff in our lives that we once thought and at some point we realize our true inner selves. I am an athlete. I really need to realize the truth of that. I am a god-damned athlete. That is who I am. I’ve always been her on the inside; always, my whole life as the chubby teen who dreamt about running to the current girl who can randomly run 13.1 miles. I am a God-Damned athlete and no one; NO ONE can take that away from me.

It is not about skinny, not even close. It’s about being strong and healthy and embracing the girl I was always meant to become. The strongest possible version of myself physically and mentally. Funny how physical strength gives me the mental strength that I really need as well.

Tonight it’s back to the gym for my personal training at 5:30 and then 2 half hour classes. I feel confident, strong and ready. My motivation has returned and with it comes my ability to achieve whatever I set my mind to. I am much stronger than I have ever given myself credit for and it’s about damned time I stepped up to the plate and took control of the things that are dragging me down. That’s what Thursday’s therapy session is for!