Ok, so late last year I started thinking on my health, how to improve it and how to send a good example for the kids. So… in a moment of sheer madness, I decided not to make a resolution or diet (those are WAY to easy to break) , but to create a goal. I decided that I was going to run a 10K by the end of the year. And what better way to train for a 10K than a work-sponsored 5K in February? What was not to love? They have a start up program to train people to be ready in 6 weeks, plus there is always the added pressure of having your bosses see you attempt this race… especially since they run miles every day and are vegetarians… yep, I work for healthy people…
In order to get ready, I first had to find my treadmill. There were rumors of a sighting somewhere in our home. As far as I was concerned, the rumor included a Yeti exercising there with a Leprechaun coaching him. But, lo and behold, we found the treadmill and placed it somewhere where I could easily use it.
The next step was to find the right encouragement. My husband thinks I look hot no matter how much I weigh or how I look, so that was out of the question. The pressure of your coworkers see you fail can only take you so far, so I did the only thing a crazy person who just ate too much over the holidays can do: I told my brothers.
Here’s the deal. Growing up, my brothers were swimmers. We are not talking occasional splashers, we are talking International-Competitive-one-of-them-went-to-the-Olympics kind of swimmers. I wasn’t. Now, my older brother (the MD) is a running man and my younger brother (the one that gets confused with Ricky Martin) is a tri-athlete. It is amazing that I have ANY type of self-worth.
Anyhow, as any sister in the world knows, once you tell your brothers you are going to do something, let it be run a 5K or eat a worm, you HAVE to do it. So I have started to train.
Treadmill dusted off, I began training in December – waaay ahead of the training schedule. In a couple of weeks I began to feel good about my regimen. Then, my younger brother suggested that I run on the street, so I could get a feel for it. I was running 45 minutes on the treadmill. This would be easy!
I discovered in less than a block, that the Earth is NOT flat. What looked to me like a perfect piece of street, level yard (very rare in the Blue Ridge Mountains), had become an uphill piece of Purgatory. Plus, the Earth didn’t move under my feet, I had to move on top of it – and with no shock-absorbing capacity! GASP! Fifteen minutes later, I was dragging myself across my front door. My kids, who had been cheering me on when I left, where a little concerned and frankly scared of this woman laying on the foyer who couldn’t move her foot out of the way so they could close the door (it was 30 degrees outside). I have been working on it. Now, I can do about 25 minutes of uphill running before my shins and calves decide that the workout is OVER.
The race is at the end of February… Tick, Tock… and to make it more special, Ricky Martin brother has decided to enter it with me…