What Did I Just Do?

Oh, and my “Week in Hikes -Week 6"!

It’s Monday, and the endorphin rush of the past weekend has fizzled out somewhat. I was on a virtual runner's high (somebody else's), what with so many near and dear ones crushing their personal fitness goals and breezing victoriously across finish lines, 5k’s to Marathons!

Somewhere between the excitement of race days and my “girl-power” post, I signed up for a half marathon. I thought it was a great idea at the time, and it probably still is, especially because it’s a “Rock ‘n Roll” marathon! My sister and good friends are all on board. I even convinced my best friend, who hasn’t been “in training” for anything in a very long while, to give it a go!

The thing is, I drove roughly 13.1 miles to work this morning (the equivalent of a half-marathon) and even that was difficult (my car stereo is broken and I had to go to the bathroom). I can’t imagine running that distance. So at this point, I’m only committing to walking it. If they allowed Segways or golf carts, I'd be even more confident that I can complete it.

I’ve heard that while you should train your body for distance and endurance, you should really only think one mile at a time. It’s a psychological thing. Maybe I made it up…I’m not exactly sure where I heard it, but it sounds like good advice to me. So this may be the last time I refer to "13.1 miles" in my blog. I'm just going to start with where I am. Mile zero.

Perhaps you know my personal history and relationship with running, perhaps not. Here is a brief synopsis; Running has always been in the back of my mind. I’ve always thought it looked like something I would enjoy, that I might even be good at! The only athletic thing I’ve ever “mastered” other than horseback riding, is the art of ducking; ducking when a basket ball comes whizzing toward my head, ducking at the plate or in the outfield when a tiny round leather rocket comes hurtling toward me. But running…I bet I'm a natural! It would be me and the wind against the world! Or so I thought.

I used to run a little bit in my 20’s. Enough that I got fitted for shoes and regularly ran a 3 mile loop by my house (alternating between walking and running). But I had no clue what I was doing and never advanced past a certain distance. I had terrible lung capacity (thank you Philip Morris), and my shins always burned after the first half mile or so. I did not "float effortlessly". I lumbered along painfully like a water buffalo after being bitten by a giant monitor lizard (I saw this on the Discovery Channel and it looked all too familiar). The wind was my enemy, not the romantic running partner I had envisioned. This was also during one of my many “non-smoking” periods. As soon as I picked up smoking again, the running fell by the wayside.

Fast forward 15 years. After being smoke-free for a few years (and for good this time), my desire to be "one with the wind” became overwhelming again. It doesn’t help that Pleasanton has more runners per capita than any other place on earth. I can’t get 20 feet from my front door without being visually accosted by legions of ultra-fit (or those on a mission to become so), pony tail swinging, fancy running ensemble wearing, leggy, toned & tanned runners.

So, I got fitted for some new running shoes, which really helped with the shin pain, and started training for a 5k. As soon as I made it a mile without stopping (not effortlessly or in any way “floaty”, mind you), I signed up for a running clinic. One week in, I suffered from (what I believed to be) a hairline fracture in my right ankle. I had twisted my ankle a tiny bit hiking, then managed to finish it off with my next run. I was off my foot for two months. I finally acknowledged that running was just not for me. Apparently, I’m not made for running. Not with these pencil ankles and the lung capacity of an 80 year old. Forget it!

As soon as I was able to walk again, I took up hiking instead. And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. I figured if I can’t run, I can push myself up mountains…walking.

Well, here I am again. A year later, totally inspired and craving that ever illusive runner’s high, and not just the kind I get from reading Runner’s World magazine either. I want the real thing. I’ve got new shoes, some "motivational running apparel" (I do run better in cute running pants, I knew I would!), the Couch to 5K podcast on my Ipod, and the half marathon 6 months away.

I did my first interval training work out yesterday. I guess all of the hiking I’ve been doing has improved my cardiovascular fitness tremendously because it was effortless! I floated! The wind and I, running together this time! I even cried a little bit, ok, I sobbed for just a split second, when the voice of Robert Ullreys on my Ipod said; “Great job, you did it!” Maybe I was a bit overly emotional, it was only 8 - one minute intervals of running, after all. But to me it was huge. Like Barack winning the Presidency huge. Ok, totally not that huge. But you can feel my relief and sense of accomplishment, right? My passion, my perseverance and tenacity? My theory is that, since I want to be a runner so badly, I must be destined for running greatness! If I ever cross a finish line of any distance, I'm sure I will be a blubbering mess.

This time, I vow to build up slowly and hike carefully.

Oh yeah, and my hikes: I hiked Wednesday and Friday, did lot’s of yoga this week and RAN on Sunday!

I ate healthfully, no confessions this week! I even found a "healthier cheese puff" if you can believe it. And my weight? I don’t really care. I RAN on Sunday!!