A long time ago when I was but a wee lad, I wanted to a impress a cross-country runner. I stretched out my legs, did a few torque twists, and embarked on my very first non-PE-mandated run. I missed the cheering/bullying from middle school as I'd cross the one mile finish line at the 12 minute mark. Needless to say, I wasn't a runner. Well, at least it was enough to warrant a running date with her, but I crashed and burned pretty quickly, and of course now that we actually had to talk, the ship kept sinking!
Since then, my experience with running had been on a "need-basis." I ran whenever I felt sad, full of anger, or anything that painful that could be overshadowed by being completely out of breath and miserable. 3 months ago, I decided to commit to making a change. I wanted to make fitness a priority for years, but it always felt like it would entail a huge lifestyle change, with changes to my diet, actually working out, sleeping on time, etc. It just felt like a chore, and I am a lazy flarg. Thus I decided on the bare minimum: running, and nothing else. As usual, the beginning was absolutely terrible. being unable to breath mere seconds into my run. I often imagined myself from the perspective of the cars zooming by. "He's barely knows how to breath properly, and just looks like he's heaving like an animal," and "He's probably wearing a hoodie because he wants to "speed up" his weight loss... looks like he needs it," and so on. I almost used these self-hate comments as fuel to continue running, but alas, in classic Zuko fashion, when my determination was tested the most during the Texas snowstorm... I returned to the dark side.
A few days later, I reluctantly embarked on another run and again had to go through the terrible first day running syndrome. As I was running, the sky was illuminated in a beautiful orange. The rays poked out of hazy, low hanging clouds. To my left, there was a fountain, and a small rainbow shone across its falls. The water was illuminated by the sun's twilight orange. To my right, I saw a woman pushing a boy about my age on a wheel chair. I smiled and waved and shouted good evening, and he smiled back. All of a sudden. I felt this utter sense of dread. I was breathless, fatigued, and felt like passing out. Yet I had a gift and a privilege that I had taken for granted for my entire life: my legs. I imagined what it must have felt like for the boy in the wheelchair to see me, to see others walking around and playing and frolicking in the grass. I felt such immense sadness, and wished that I could let him feel that sense of freedom, that sense of wonder that we take for granted every single day. It was at that moment I decided that I would never stop running. I would treasure this priceless privilege and gift.
For the past month, I've run consistently every day. My legs have been tortured into enjoying it. They're suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, with running being their devious kidnapper. Sometimes I'll decide to just walk due to slight pain, but there is this urge, this feeling behind me which just pushes me to take flight. My mile time dropped from 9:30 to 7:26. However, the day I ran that 7:26 mile... I felt nothing. No pride about the mile time itself, because it's no longer about numbers or mile times. I just felt happy and lucky that I had the chance and power to do so. That I had the chance to feel the fresh earthen breeze on my face, and see those beautiful Texas sunsets. That I could appreciate the beauty of running.
I'd be lying if I said I don't want a stellar body and to lose weight, but I am proud to say that I, after 6 long years, finally enjoy running. And like Chris Traeger, I wish to run to the moon.
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://ift.tt/3uOSBq4
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