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Monday, August 5, 2013


It's 1a.m.   I can't sleep because I have adrenaline coursing through my veins. 

Tonight I went out for a "run".  I went with no expectations.  No plans.  Just my husband kicking my ass out the door because I mentioned that I might try to run and he wasn't going to let me make excuses. 

I felt like it was going to be ugly.  No, worse than ugly.  I mean, I haven't moved faster than what's absolutely necessary to keep up with my children in almost 9 months.  And I'm getting over a cold.  And I now weigh just 2 pounds less than when I was full term preggo with the Brothers.  And while all of those things should be reasons to get out there, they've so far been reasons to stay on the couch. 

So as I wandered very reluctantly out the door, I fired up Runkeeper and picked a workout.  A nice, easy 20 minute workout.  I can do anything for 20 minutes.  I think.

I walked for a few minutes, slowly picking up my pace until the Runkeeper lady told me to start running.  So I ran.  I just kept a nice steady pace.  Nothing that stress my lungs, but brisk enough to work up a really good sweat. 

It wasn't actually too hard to keep going.  Brian waited for me at the corner near our house, not saying much as I ran by, just showing me that he's there for me.    He is, and always will be, my biggest supporter. 

The last few minutes were tough.  I looked at my phone at one point, saw that I only had 0.17 miles to go and laughed at myself.  So close!  Just.Keep.Moving.

When Runkeeper lady told me to walk, I started crying.  I just ran a mile.  Without stopping.  Here I am - hella overweight asthmatic girl with a cold who hasn't run in 9 months.  And I ran a mile.  Self-doubt = shattered. 

I walked home at a pretty brisk pace so that I could share my excitement with Bri.  When I pulled up my splits, I couldn't believe my eyes when it said that I did my mile in 12:21. 

TWELVE MINUTES AND TWENTY ONE SECONDS.  Yes.  I'm yelling.  That needs to be yelled.
That, my friends, is fast for me.  And while it's literally half the speed at which my husband runs, he was so damn proud of me too.  Because I got out there and got out of my own head and didn't let myself talk me out of if.  9 months of no running, 30+ pounds heavier, and I just ran a whole mile.  

I still feel like I'm on cloud 9.  I can't wait to run again tomorrow.  No really.  I'm totally serious. This, my friends, is the start of something very cool.  I can feel it.  

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