Becoming one of those people

Adventuring rule #3: The hardest part is convincing yourself to go. 

     Take note, for I am about to sound like an idiot. Running is hard. No, no, hear me out. It's really hard to do.
     Each step taken to prepare is simple enough. Wake up, roll out of bed, find a t-shirt and shorts and your shoes. Stuff your keys down your bra or tie them to your shoe, and go outside, iPod and cellphone optional. Done. Got that. 

     But then you have to move, and keep moving, until the heart pounds and the breathing comes quickly. Keep moving while a stitch forms somewhere around your appendix and your legs ache with the effort. Don't stop or take a break or even slow down, because that makes starting up again even harder. 

     Keep an even pace, not too fast or you'll tire out, even though you feel like dying and the only thing keeping you upright is the distant hope that someday you'll reach home again and be allowed to collapse.

     This is my range of emotions in the first five minutes of a run. All this, while elderly joggers veer around me on the icy creek path or frat guys speed past on the track in the rec center. The friend I dragged with me is oblivious to my pain, running happily to the tunes of her workout playlist blasting on her headphones.  We are training for a 5 K run, and it is not going well.  

     If I'm so miserable, why am I doing this? Simply to prove that I can.


     Exercise is not my friend. Eating delicious baked goods while curled up with a book is more my style. Required physical education classes and the occasional hike or Disneyland trip was all I needed to stay fit. High school was four years ago, though, and I think I've forgotten how to do everything. I'm really good at school, at talking and listening and writing. I'm not good at taking care of myself.

     I really thought I would just be fine. But I find myself obsessing over things I didn't used to care about, like the size of my jeans, the number on the bathroom scale and what I'm eating. This is not who I am. I know that the woman I want to be is strong and healthy. So, a 5k is a good goal to start with. Something manageable. 

     Or so I thought.  I haven't run in more than a week and I feel sluggish. Staying indoors isn't good for me, but it's not easy to get out there.


     All I can think of is the skinny, fit women slaving away on the nearby elliptical machines and contorting into stretches I don't have names for. Or the massive and muscled men who show off their lifting skills with tight sleeveless shirts. 

     These are not my people. My people live in cafes and bookstores and libraries. They do not know me, and I do not fit in this world. Or so I keep telling myself. The truth is that humans have an uncanny ability to adapt to any situation. Millions of uncomfortable scenarios have crept into the normal way of life without any of us noticing. I just have to suck it up and do it. 

     Running won't change who I am. But once I get out of my own way, I can go anywhere.