When I was a little girl I was the runner. I would run everywhere my legs would take me. I would run from my room to the kitchen, from the back yard down the street, and I would run around the building of our Church (what a little heathen I was.) As I got older I developed my love of reading, knitting, and more reading. I became what I like to call a couch potato queen. I would dream of exercise, then pick up my novel and let the protagonist run instead of me.
When I got married about ten months ago I was in fairly good shape. I was 145 pounds (if I don’t share my weight I will be less likely to want to change it, so there it is) and I was walking almost every night. After a few months of marriage I found my clothes didn’t fit quite a nicely as before, especially my jeans. I mistakenly thought that they had all shrunk, or been sewn smaller by tiny fairies in the night. Nope, I was just getting a little larger around my middle section. I was adjusting to only feeding two people instead of my family and the army of teenage boys that my brother brought home. I was also adjusting to the depression that was creeping back up on me brought on by my parents separation a few months earlier, leaving my friends and family to become an Air Force wife, and a genetic predisposition to hormonal imbalances.
Needless to say I spent our entire first assignment at Little Rock eating, knitting, and feeling sorry for myself. I would think about exercising then tell myself that I was too tired, or the gym was too far, of that there was a Chopped marathon on the Food network! After eight months of marriage I was almost 170 pounds. It was a shocking number. I only found out when I was at the doctor for a sinus infection that threatened my very existence. On that day I went home and wept. I wept for the things I was doing to my body. I wept for the blessing of health that I was letting slip away. I wept for my favorite pair of skinny jeans that threatened to kill me as I squeezed my way into them like a summer sausage. I wept then decided it was time to make a change.
I had been eating better and better since we moved to Little Rock. Eating salads, less red meat, and more fish. The biggest problem is that my portions were all wrong, and exercise was not involved. We moved to Colorado Springs a few weeks later where we walked almost every night, and I went to the gym once a week. But there was a bigger change to be made. I knew that if I was going to get serious about getting fit it would have to be more.
I decided it was time to start running.
I had heard about the couch to 5k system from my friend Camille while we were both planning for our weddings. She was an athlete in high school and was using it to get back into shape. I tried it while still in Little Rock, but didn’t get past day two. Yesterday I got up the chutsba, went to Target, and bought my first pair of running clothes. This morning I went on what I want to be the first in a lifetime of good runs.
I am not doing this just to loose the weight. Although that is a nice side bonus. I am doing this because I need something to change. I have been battling with this depression for way too long (almost 13 years) and moving all the time gets lonely. I need my endorphin boost. I need something that makes me feel good after I do it, whether my body things I am trying to kill it or not. I need something that takes the place of sitting in a chair moping about being sad and gross.
I am also doing this for God. He gave me a gift. He gave me a body that can do amazing things, and I have been a terrible steward of that gift. I have been eating huge portions and not exercising. It ends now. This blog is for me to share my journey, but also for accountability. It is for encouragement, and for (hopefully) inspiring someone else to get off their bums and take a walk to the park instead of sitting at home with the dove chocolate in one hand and the remote in the other.