What's in my head

This is the home of your average girl in her early 30s making her way in the big city...Not really. I have thoughts. Now I have somewhere to put them.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

The Burn

Every year as the snow and ice and cold fades away and trees begin to bud and the grass turns greener a funny thing happens to my lazy ass. As layers are no longer needed to stay warm in the harsh Canadian winter I begin to forgo the need for that extra layer of me I somehow developed from October through March. I begin to run and walk and get active. This year it's been a little different. I've kicked it up a notch. Or maybe 12.

Ever since I returned from Egypt (there's a post full of stories and wonderful pictures) where my roommate was the first person I'd met in real life who'd actually run an honest to goodness marathon (that's 42 km!!!) I was left with feelings of laziness over my being satisfied when the treadmill hit 1.5 miles. So I came home and ran 4 km and then I got up the next morning at 6:30 a.m. (jet lag) and went for another run. I ran the day after that in the cold. Then I joined a boot camp class. It's at 8 a.m. On a Saturday. And when I woke up the morning after my first class, sore in muscles I was certain I hadn't used, I laced up my running shoes and went for a run. I've signed up for my first 5k race and I'm aiming for a time of 30 minutes. I am maybe obsessed, just a little.

I've gone through fitness spurts before. I've taken rowing and soccer. I had a gym membership for four years. I've climbed the CN Tower. But this time things are different. I've learned something interesting. When my calves are strained and my thighs are burning and the air around me seems to be lacking oxygen that is not the time to give up. That's when you push yourself harder than you've ever pushed yourself before. When my body used to yell, "hey, WTF stop this running shit and walk for a while." I'd listen. I'd let the pain win. Now I push. I take a deep breath, que up a pumping song on my MP3 player, put my head down and run. It might take me 30 minutes to do 4k, but I can now run for 30 minutes straight without stopping to walk.

And when I'm done. The sweat pouring down my red face, my legs not wanting to move another inch and my lungs gasping for breath I feel good. It's my own little victory. After each run, each little victory, it will get easier.

And that's when I'll know it's time to push again.