Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm continuing with my blog. I'm pretty sure the only people who might read it are Becky and Tony, but I think it might be therapeutic in my current endeavor to keep a semi-public record. This is an extremely embarrassing topic, but I'm taking the plunge and posting about it. You see: I'm trying to become a runner.
Yes, I realize there are very few things as funny as a fat runner. Not to demean myself here, but I'm a pretty darn fat runner. Yes, I have self-esteem; yes, I know I'm a worthy individual. But the clear fact of the matter is I'm about 80 lbs. overweight. I feel there is no sense in hiding from this rather obvious fact.
I've been slowly easing into running for about 2 months. It has been my dirty little secret; the one I would die if anyone found out about (side note: I know this means I have a boring life). With the exception of Heather, on whom I depend for advice and sarcasm, I haven't told anyone outside of my husband. Honestly, I only told him because I felt I had to. I'm deeply ashamed of the vision of myself running. Don't get me started on the idea of spandex (not happening for at least 30 lbs.!).
I've always had the completely unattainable dream of becoming a runner. I ran on the cross country team in middle school, but gave up when a few 8th grade boys teased me. I've always felt ashamed of giving up so easily--I was pretty good! I mean, not championship good, but I managed to consistently stay in the top half of race competitors. I've never wanted to be a speed demon, but I used to love the way running made me feel. When the teasing started (although in retrospect, it was pretty minor teasing), I gave up and refused to continue running in high school. My high school years were not the kindest years to me. Now I teach high school...Freud would have something to say about this...
Anyway, back to my current state of chubby running. I started out by walking a lot over the spring and summer. In August, I randomly viewed a colleague's blog and came across a reference to Hal Hidgon's 30/30 plan (hehe, hypertext!). It didn't sound too hard, so I thought I would give it a try. As a result of my super embarrassment, I decided not to tell anyone. Honestly, I figured I would quit within a few weeks. That's what I tend to do with my health.
To my intense surprise, I loved the feeling I got from this workout. It took me longer than 1 month (ok, perhaps 3 months), but I finally reached the place where I had mastered very basic jogging. My schedule was routinely interrupted by my own mortification at being seen running. I did everything I could think of to give off the appearance of a casual walker: I exercised during "slow use" times at the woods, I stopped running the moment I heard someone coming, I slowed down around corners to make sure the coast was clear, etc. My get-up was also hysterical. I was always over-covered with extra large sweatshirts, huge sunglasses, and a ski cap pulled low on my face. Seriously, I'm lucky no one mistook me for a bank robber. I kept up my disguise so well that I was passed several times by beautifully running colleagues who didn't recognize me. Rather than be ashamed of my cowardice, I felt pitifully proud of myself.
Why come public now, you may ask? Why bring my humiliation out of the closet and into the critical light of day? Well, I joined a gym because it's too f****** cold to go outside.
People see me running. I feel super embarrassed. Publicly embarrassed. "I belong on the Biggest Loser" type of embarrassed. So far, I've been lucky enough to avoid seeing people I know. But it's only a matter of time before I run into colleagues (*gasp*), students (*gasp gasp*), and/or parents of my students (*swoon*). I'm bracing myself for this inevitable humiliation.
The good news? I'm getting pretty good at moderately running. In September, running 30 seconds made me think my heart would explode. Now, I jog for five minutes, walk for one, then jog again. Jogging for five straight minutes would have seemed impossible a few months ago. I feel pretty proud of myself. I'm not fast (embrace the 16 minute mile!), but I'm consistent. Therein lies a great victory for me.
In addition to my mental jump off the running cliff, I'm trying to cut WAY back on caffeine and soda. I connect them because the only caffeine I drink comes from Diet Coke. And I don't drink one or two small sodas a day. Until 3 weeks ago, Diet Coke was actually the only thing I drank. I usually manage to quit soda over the summer, but fall right back into it (and junk food) during the school year. I just need to break the cycle (*slapping myself*). Let's face it: that much Diet Coke would probably kill most lab rats. I've gone 6 straight days without caffeine. I'm going to let myself have 1-2 glasses of soda tomorrow because I'm going to my Grammie's for dinner (and I'm a snob about Glenburn water). But I think if I can avoid having more than 1-2 sodas per week, I will be a much healthier person. All I've been drinking is water, and I don't hate it as much as I expected.
Summary: I'm a chubby, water-loving, new-time jogger. We'll see how it develops. My goal is to jog my first 5K this spring. My willpower has been going strong for several months--now it's time to let my mortification take a back seat and give my "can do" attitude a chance to drive.
Recommended reading for fellow new, like-minded runners: The Non-Runner's Marathon Guide for Women and The Courage to Start. The first is sarcastic and intensely humorous; the second is inspirational for people who jog more like fat penguins that lithe gazelles. I recommend starting with inspirational and leaving sarcastic for when your sore muscles need a good laugh.
