When I woke up yesterday it was so nasty out. Black clouds, winds that blew straight through to the bones, drizzle. Just a lot of blah. Definitely one of those days that would make it so easy to say no to exercise and justify crawling back into a warm snuggly bed.
But unfortunately (or fortunately) for me, if I don’t exercise regularly I feel like I’m the tin man. Creaky. So, off I went into the cold crappy weather to burn a few calories.
At my last physical post accident, my doctor told me that I was ok to run again. “Run for what”, I asked. Because let me tell you, there isn’t much I’ll run for. Sure, I broke into a light jog for the Boden sale, but if it weren’t for super cute strappy heels for a fraction of retail, I run for nothing.
But something happened yesterday while on my usual 5 mile trek. I wanted to run. And that was something very new to me, this desire to run. But I decided to give it a whirl. At first I just jogged from light pole to light pole. Gasping for breath like someone dying from emphysema. It wasn’t pretty.
After catching my breath, I did the same thing. Light pole to light pole until I couldn’t do it anymore. But once I got the hang of it, I pushed myself a little harder and actually ran. What used to take me an hour and a half to complete took just over an hour. No, I won’t be running in the Olympics anytime soon with that kind of time, but for me that was pretty darn impressive.
Towards the end of my walk/jog/run, I ran into a woman who was painting by the water’s edge and I stopped to admire her artistry. “Lovely day”, I said sarcastically. She looked at me with a smile. “It’s all what you make of it, really” she said pleasantly.
Indeed, I agreed. The day truly is what you make of it.
And with that, I jogged back to my car with a little more spring in my step.