I couldn’t finish today’s Couch to 5k. It was the first day that bumped me from 3 minutes to 4 minutes. And they wanted me to do it twice! Twice.
I’m barely running 3 minutes and that is what it starts with…and I did it. Then came the 4 minute – and I did it. But not without some m a j o r motivational dialogue going on inside my brain. The last-minute was me saying “every single step you take is the furthest you’ve ever ran”. But the second 4 minutes, I couldn’t muster any sort of similar motivation – I was out of breath, my legs hurt, so I started walking for a couple of minutes and then left. I’ll just keep doing this step until I can finish it. Running sucks so bad. I also weight-lifted, which doesn’t suck as bad.
Saturday after work I went to the mall because I knew it would be madness. Sometimes I seek out madness when I don’t have to be a part of it…it’s a great opportunity to people watch. So I grabbed some Starbucks and walked around the mall. What I noticed was lots and lots of obesity. It seemed that every single woman had a massive belly hanging over her jeans. The image of all those obese women was my motivation for even getting up and going to the gym tonight. I’ve always had this fear of being morbidly obese. I can remember being a small child and seeing someone morbidly obese and I would tell my mom “Please, never let me get that fat.” This is when I was like 5 years old!
Now that I think of it…I think if my five-year old self saw me now, she wouldn’t be very happy with me. I’m not morbidly obese, but I could stand to lose 30 pounds. That opens a whole other can of worms though…what else would my five-year old self think of her 33-year-old self?
I do think she would be happy with the plans I have for this coming year. Finishing my Associates and taking an almost-solo-trip to NYC in the Spring…Yes, I think she would be thrilled with those two things. I know my 33-year-old self is quite excited about this.
It’s not the best quality, but here is five-year-old me, circa 1983.