Marathon Training--Day 1

My workout today was a humbling experience.  I walked on the treadmill for 20 minutes at 2.8 mph.  I sit here now, after stretching, drenched in sweat, guzzling water and trying to keep my calves from cramping as they scream in discomfort.  The reality of today's workout has brought on two different reactions.

The first is disappointment. 

I knew I had gained weight.  The evidence is clear every time I look into a full-length mirror.  But it's very easy to forget how I look in the mirror when I'm not looking into the mirror--it's very easy to see myself as I used to be.  And it's very easy to avoid looking into a mirror to avoid facing the reality of myself.  The reality of myself is that I weigh 256 pounds.  The reality of myself is that walking for 20 minutes on a treadmill exhausted me.  The reality of myself is that I drink way too much soda and not enough water, I eat too many wrong foods and not enough right ones.  The reality of myself is that I am overweight and unhealthy. 

When I first met Chaz I weighed 175 pounds and wore a size 12 jean.  Now I wear a size 22/24.  When I first met Chaz I could walk for an hour and still have energy to go some more.  I was able to run between 1 and 2 miles--and could probably have run more if I so chose, I just hated running.  Exercise wasn't a chore, it was part of a daily routine, even if my mother did have to hassle me out the door and get me started. 

I look back at what I could do then and see what I can do now and the chasm between the two is huge.  And it's not ok.  I could use the fact that I've been pregnant twice in the past two and a half years as an excuse for why I've gained this much weight, but that's exactly what it would be.  An excuse.  I made the decisions that got me to this place--I chose to eat the wrong food, I chose to quit exercising, I hid behind my pregnancies and told myself that I was fine. 

But I'm not.  Living like this is not ok.  Not for me and not for my family.  I should have never let myself get like this and now that I have, I am the only one who can do something about it.  So I'm starting today.

Which leads to my second reaction: determination.

I used to be healthy and relatively athletic.  I want to be that way again.  I want to get back to the person I was three years ago--the person who could run and kick box and win martial arts tournaments.  I want to feel good about myself.  I want to like the person I see in the mirror.  I want to quit lying to myself and telling myself that it's ok to look and feel the way I do, because if there's one thing I can say about myself, it's that I've never been a liar.  At least, not until now.

My mother turned 50 yesterday and she is running in her second marathon this October.  If she can run a marathon at 50 (heck, if the 70 and 80 year olds I saw running last year are running marathons) then I should be able to do the same at half the age.  So I have decided that I will be running in the Rock n' Roll Marathon that will take place in St. Louis next October.  Unfortunately, I do have to be realistic about the demands on my life right now, including two girls under the age of two and I don't think I will be ready for the marathon this year.  But I will be running next year. 

I'm declaring it publicly because then I am accountable to someone other than myself.  Declaring it makes it real.  It's not just a thought in my head that I can quickly discard.  People will read it and expect it--so if I don't run next year, then I have once again lied.  I will have failed.  And failure has never been an option in my life.  I will not let it become an option now.

So it starts today.  The steps will be small.  Change cannot and does not happen overnight.  Mistakes will be made.  But over the course of many days and many nights I will continue to strive until I am once again looking in the mirror at the person I want to be.  Until that day when I can truly look myself in the eye and say "I love you." 

26.2, here I come.