An awakening of sorts

Today I want to talk about my amazing fitness weekend. I felt strong, confident, and alive. Things I haven’t felt in a while. I felt physically like I could tackle a mountain, even though I probably couldn’t actually. Nonetheless, I exercised Thursday night. I did a 30 minute class, then I did about 30 minutes of weights and then I ran for 30 minutes, a 5k. I felt great but I was done with exercise at that point.

Friday I took off from exercise. My body said it was time for a little break which was fine by me. I ended up going to Red Lobster for dinner with my mom. It was nice to get out and have some fresh seafood. I adore seafood. Like hands down my favorite food ever. Shrimp, lobster, scallops. Amazing! Oh and an alcoholic beverage too. Somewhere later Friday night I decided that I wanted a good workout Saturday morning.

I was going to go to the gym for 9 AM Turbokick but honestly it only actually happens about 50% of the time because they need like 4-6 people minimum to show up to take the class. On Saturday morning that rarely happens. I wasn’t holding my breath. If I just show up on my own and we don’t have class I never work as hard honestly. So in the back of my mind I was thinking I better prepare for the lack of class. I logged onto Facebook and send the class instructor a message. This was at about 9:30 PM Friday night and was like, hey, if we don’t have class tomorrow or if we do maybe afterwards do you want to kick my ass with a one on one personal training session? She pretty much instantly replied back to me yes. I love my gym and I love the friends I am making at the gym. Oh and I love that I can pretty much decide late on a Friday night that I want a personal training session the next morning and make it happen.

I got to the gym a few minutes late. Oops, but it all worked out okay and we ended up having 5 people and had an amazing class. So yeah, I got in about 45 minutes of turbo kick and I was feeling pretty awesome. After that I met up with Amanda, the instructor, to do an arm/upper body workout. Holy shit, that girl KILLED me. My back or lat muscles as she called them are throbbing even today. I knew it was going to be killer, I requested a torturous session and that is what I got. Hands down. Tricep work and back work and it hurt. I could barely do it all. That is what I love about personal training actually. They believe in you, more than you believe in yourself. That is the truth. There is no way in hell on my own I’d ever pick up the 50 pound barbell for anything. She looks at the bars and is like, get the 50. I’m thinking are you out of your fucking mind, but she’s like, you’re strong, you can do it. And I deadlifted 50 pounds, and then 40 pounds, 30 pounds, 20 pounds, etc.

She cooked up a whole series of torturous activities that I actually did completely love. I got my money’s worth for sure and that is all I can ask for. It makes me feel so strong. I can cardio it up on my own any day of the week, but actually pushing myself on a weight lifting routine is difficult. And yesterday I woke up sore reinforcing the reality that I worked muscle groups that don’t really get touched and clearly used them to the point of them breaking down to be rebuilt just a little stronger. I love it when I physically feel the transformation taking place. That is where I was at yesterday and today for that matter. I felt amazing Saturday morning like I could conquer anything the world threw at me. That is what a good round of exercise does for me. And I then have to ask the ultimate inevitable question, why am I not doing something in this realm for a living, for real? Also, how on earth do I ever stop being healthy and exercising when clearly it does so much for me?

Wait, I am not going to stop this time. I truly believe that. I have found a love that I have never had before. Yes, I am a runner and will always be a runner. But I have never been a true fitness all around girl until now. I am in complete love. It is a new kind of excitement totally different than the thrill of running and I know this is exactly what has been missing every single time I have ever gone down the fitness path. I am never ever going back. EVER.

So jump to Sunday morning. I was having a very difficult time getting out of bed. I was starting to feel like a loser because I have signed up for my first half marathon the end of September and I haven’t really trained at all. One would probably say all of my crazy gym time is training. And it is. But it makes me nervous to not partake in long runs. It’s like I get afraid that my brain won’t remember how to perform a long run. They are not easy. As much as I love and adore running, I wouldn’t say running is an easy task. It’s just as much mental as anything physical. I was feeling pretty crappy all around so I decided that with nothing else on the agenda and an entire day of freedom that a nice long run would be in order. I had every intention of running outside and testing the waters but wouldn’t you know when I went outside it started down pouring. I know I should embrace running in the rain, but somehow it just didn’t seem too smart yesterday. But I really wanted to run so I went ahead and went to the gym.

It’s funny because I do have a treadmill at home that I used religiously for forever but somehow I felt like running at the gym was the right thing to do. So off I went. I wasn’t sure when I started how long I was going to run completely. But I knew I wanted a nice long run and in the back of my mind I was shooting for that 13.1 mark but wasn’t completely sure if my body was going to allow it. The treadmill itself only allows for a 60 minute run before it shuts itself off. So I programed in 60 minutes, and then it lets you do 5 minutes of cool down so a grand total of 65 minutes. Anyhow, I started running at a 6.4 pace. It felt pretty comfortable and it didn’t take long for me to break into a sweat. I had a few problems or things going against me. The big one being water. I had one water bottle and quickly drank half of it. I knew that it was not going to hold up an entire run.

I ran straight thru for 62 minutes, 6.6 miles, at an average pace of 9:31 according to the machine. When the machine shut itself off. I paused for a moment, drank some water and rested for about 3 minutes before I started the machine back up and went to 6.4 speed again. I was tired at this point but I was not going to give up. My mind is more powerful than my body and I knew I was going to accomplish this because I simply decided it was going to happen.

I ran at a 6.4 pace for about 30 minutes and then my legs started cramping up on me. My water was done and I knew I had to stop. I hit pause on the machine. It gives you a 5 minute break so I instantly hopped off the machine, down the flight of stairs and to the water fountain. I filled my water bottle and instantly chugged 24 ounces. I refilled the water bottle and headed back to the machine. I was afraid my 5 minutes would expire but it had not yet. I turned the machine back on but given how tired my legs were I opted for a 6.2 speed. I ran another mile and hit pause. My right leg was really kinked and I needed to stretch it. 2.5 miles to go. I was NOT going to fail at this point. Just not an option. Back on. I ran for 1.5 miles at a 6.2 speed and then had to hit pause one more time. 1 mile left. I rested for a few second and then told myself I had one mile left I could do this. I was physically exhausted and pretty much mentally shot as well but come on, 1 more mile… quitting was not even an option at all. Even if I had to walk it I was going to finish.

I knew in the back of my mind that walking it wasn’t really an option either. I had run every single one of the 12.1 miles and I wasn’t going to quit on the last mile. So I geared up for the last mile, only at a 6.0 speed this time but boy was I watching as the tenths of the mile were clicking down and my leg was throbbing. When it finally hit the 6.5 on the treadmill (combined with the previous 6.6 miles for a total of 13.1 miles) I wanted to lie down and cry but instead I turned the treadmill off and sat on it. I just sat on the edge of the treadmill in the gym, covered in sweat and rested for a moment to reflect upon what I had just done.

For the record, round two of the treadmill read 6.5 miles, 62:56 minutes, at a pace of 9:40. Now this pace is not actually accurate because I did pause a few times. So obviously in a real race my time is going to be slower and my pace slower because this treadmill did not take into account my pauses, but for today this was good enough. I ran 13.1 miles and I am not going to split hairs over a few pauses. I ran the first 6.6 miles complete non-stop, no breaks. So in the last 6.5 miles I had to have 3 little couple minute pauses. Not a big deal. It still equals 13.1 miles.

The mental game I played yesterday was all about pushing myself and deciding that today I was going to succeed no matter what. Even if I actually believed it or not. Basically I needed to know it wasn’t a fluke, that yes, I can run that much. Even if I’m tired and exhausted and mentally and physically fatigued I CAN run that much. That lesson is invaluable.

There is something else I realized yesterday in my over 2 hours running on that treadmill. The first is this, I am at almost 11 months of healthy living. And then it hit me, that when I run my ½ marathon for real on September 22, it will be pretty close to one year from when I started being healthy again. I restarted my journey this time on October 5, so pretty dang close enough, within 2 weeks. When I signed up for the ½ marathon I did not realize the significance of this. I did not realize that I was pretty much a year out from when I started. And that almost made me cry. That in a year’s time, I could not think of anything more fitting for me to do than run a ½ marathon, after the year I’ve had. So yes, that ½ marathon means the world to me at this point and I didn’t even know it.

I will not be racing, I will not be competitive. I am just going to finish the damned thing. Even if it takes me 3 hours I am going to finish it because it is THAT important and that significant. I mean October 5, 2012 I quietly took the steps to start this journey and had no idea how important every one of these steps would be. I had no idea how changed I would end up becoming because of all the little steps I took. I truly did not know what crazy journey was ahead of me over the next year. Or how much it would really take this time. I feel blessed to be standing where I am today in terms of my health and fitness. I am a completely 1000% changed woman. Thanks in large part to the gym. Thanks in large part to my obsessive compulsive personality.

I can’t believe it’s already been 11 months, and that soon I’ll be standing at the 1 year anniversary of recommitment to this lifestyle that has become so second nature to me. This lifestyle that makes me happy and excited and want to get out of bed every single day to improve upon. This fiercely real love of the gym that I have.

Today I am smiling from ear to ear because I killed an amazing upper body strength training workout this weekend and then I freaking ran 13.1 miles. I am an athlete. I am a God-Damned strong, fierce athletic woman. I get to decided what is right for me, what I want and what I am capable of. I caption my own fucking ship in the sea. The sky is the limit and I am so all aboard for the athletic journey I am on.