Running Update

I'm still up in the air about this Hot Chocolate race I'm supposed to be running.  

The other day I finally sat down and journaled about it all, trying to figure out why this whole running thing has me so emo.  

Like I said, I have never done anything athletic.  Not even as a kid.  No soccer or tee ball... nothing.  Because I sucked, even back then.  

Elementary school P.E. was a traumatic experience.  We had this teacher who only liked the popular kids, and all we did was run or play soccer.  He always seemed to do activities that put the spotlight on individuals, which for me, meant constant embarrassment.  (Thinking about those games of "line soccer" still makes me nauseous.)  When we had fitness testing, sometimes he'd make us do things like pull-ups in front of the whole class. 

It was bad enough that, on nights before P.E., I would cry and beg my parents to not make me go to school.  True story.  And this lasted for several years.  

In elementary school, most kids try hard.  But in middle school or high school, it's socially acceptable to not care.  And that is how I made it through my entire school career without ever running a whole mile.  I stopped trying after like, 4th grade.  

Long story short, I got pregnant, destroyed my body, continued to gain weight, and finally lost weight. 

But despite my weight loss, my aversion to running continued.  I always said it was something I'd never do.  I moved to Phoenix and my love of hiking took off, the first athletic thing I'd ever really enjoyed.  But what I liked about hiking was that it didn't feel like a workout; there was beauty and adventure involved, and I just happened to be burning calories.  

Of course, the canyoneering evolved from the hiking, and when I got back from my trip this summer, I knew I had to do something to build my endurance and stay in shape for the canyons.  I couldn't afford the gym, and there's a huge park across the street.  I looked up the Couch to 5k program and saw that it was only a 20 minute time investment, and Day 1 only had me running for 60 seconds and a time.  I was still on a "fearless" high from my 8 weeks on the road.  So, despite all the emotional baggage attached to running, I walked out my front door and just tried it.  

I have a love/hate relationship with running.  Obviously, there's something I love about it that keeps me going.  And it's not just the "hell yeah!" I get from Jason when I achieve a new milestone; there's an intrinsic desire to do better and continually push myself.  

However, it is a constant struggle to not compare myself to others.  Because I KNOW that it's harder for me than it is for other people.  I know that sounds whiney, and I'm not trying to make excuses.  But it's true.  I'm not built for it.  It doesn't come naturally to me.  

But I've been doing pretty well with this.   Jason keeps telling me long and slow, like fast is even an option.  I'll never be fast.  And honestly, that is completely okay with me.  I am still in awe of the fact that I can run a whole mile.  MORE than a whole mile now.  Doesn't matter how long it takes me to get there.  After 30 years of not even being able to run for one minute, almost every run feels like a major accomplishment.  

I don't need to run a race to feel this accomplishment.  I don't need anyone to witness it.  I don't need to compete against other people.  Competing against myself has worked just fine.  I am afraid that, if I run this race, I will feel like my elementary school self again, seeing how awesome everyone around me is and how much I suck.  Deciding that I shouldn't even bother to try, because I'm tired of being embarrassed and looking stupid.  Watching other people treat the 5k like a fun-filled, effortless way to spend a Sunday morning while I am fighting with everything I've got to make it to the finish line.  All the insecurities and emotion will come rushing back, and I'll be done with running.  

The funny thing is that being successful at this 5k would also upset me.  I'm pretty sure I'll be able to run the whole thing.  And when I finish, I will be SO proud of myself.  Because I know my past, and I know what a big deal it is.  But then I'll start thinking about how a 5k is NOT a big deal, it is NOTHING compared to a marathon, and I will be SO embarrassed for being proud of myself.  

At this point, every run is a fight; every run induces anxiety.  When I start out, I am never sure what the outcome will be. I am afraid that all the other successful runs were flukes, that I somehow just got lucky all the other times, and this time, my usual self will be back and I won't even be able to run for five minutes.  For me, there is so much anxiety that surrounds running, and such a fear of failure...

So I'm still up in the air about this race.  And if I do decide to do it, I think this will be the one and only.

I wonder if I could talk Joe into just going for a run with me that morning, then going out for hot chocolate afterwards.  I bet I could go further than 5k, AND there's a place in my neighborhood with Vosges hot chocolate...