A few weeks ago I decided I was going to start on the Couch to 5K running program. I cannot even begin to describe to you the degree to which I both hate and am incompetent at running. Even when I was a skinny little kid I couldn't run very far, and I find it to be the most boring possible form of exercise. And yet a few weeks ago I lost my mind and decided that I was going to do the Couch to 5K, and when my stubborn bit gets set it stays set.
Week 1 Day 1 of the program is pretty modest-- it's interval training with a five-minute warmup followed by 60 seconds of running then 90 seconds of walking repeated for 20 minutes, then a five-minute cooldown. Modest though it may be, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get through the first day, and I was right. I'm *way* out-of-shape.
It took me a couple of weeks of screwing around to realize that I really did have to get decent running shoes, so I did that about a week and a half ago. And the last couple of times I've run, I've quit halfway through the set due to leg cramps or foot cramps or somesuch nonsense. Still, the fact that I kept going with it impresses me.
Tonight as I pulled my running shoes on I said to the cats, "Fuck that noise. I'm finishing this." And then... I did! Whoa! Eight minutes of running, 22 minutes of walking, and I lived to tell about it. A part of me rolls my eyes at how pathetic that is-- "It took you four weeks just to get to the starting line." But really, that's just an acknowledgment of how out-of-shape I am, and how far back my personal starting line was. I can stop snarking at myself long enough to acknowledge that I've made actual progress, and that I haven't given up.
I also haven't fallen asleep on the treadmill, broken any bones, visited any emergency rooms, nor had to put ice on any part of my body. I cannot understate the miraculousness of any of those things.
And hey... I fucking finished W1D1!