I had a very hard summer. I lost a lot of weight, I was hospitalized, I have to use insulin now, I gained some weight back, and I finally had to give up sugar, yes, a very hard summer. But summer is coming to a close. The wonder of fall is about to begin. I’m tired.
I know that in addition to having to lose weight I also need to get physical exercise. I can walk or step or lift weights, or all of the above. I hadn’t started doing anything and I was getting restless.
Dropping 50lbs wasn’t hard, just hard on my body. I’ve never been dehydrated before, it wasn’t fun. I gained back 15lbs once all my cells could function again. I didn’t realize how sick I had let myself become. Still, I needed to do something physical.
Out of the blue one evening, my daughter called and informed me that she had signed up to run her first 5K. I was impressed! I thought it was about time to start walking but could I actually run again? I haven’t run for about 15 years and I am 57 now. I thought about it a couple of days and decided to join her. I signed up for my first 5K run.
I have until April 2020 to get my self into shape. I downloaded an app…hahaha, ain’t that the way of it. I decided that the app was going to be too slow for me. I push too hard sometimes and so I just jumped in, all by myself. I’ve been a distance runner before, surely I can do it again.
I chose interval training, you know, some walking and then some jogging. So far it is working well. I have a 15:45 mile going. My goal is 14:29 or less per mile. I am not running the entire time, yet. I’m not even up to a full 3.1 mile course. So far, 1.57 miles a day has been it. I’m lazy. I set my alarm everyday, like I’m going to really jump up and start moving….a girl can dream.
I usually get up about half an hour after the alarm. I let the dogs out, feed the cat and then put my shoes on. One day I walk the entire course, the next day I do the interval training. Most days my eyes are still half closed as I take my first few steps. I gripe, internally, for the first 5 minutes.
I started lengthening my stride. I don’t take those little baby steps as I slowly jog along. Now I am taking actually running strides. I’m proud of that. Oh, I don’t run far with that stride, but I do run now.
I will be 58 when this race happens. As always, I want to look good as I cross the finish line, no matter what my final time will be.