Although I did some running / walking combo workouts while we lived in both Milwaukee and Pittsburgh, I really only feel like I've been running since about February of this year; I guess because I was never very consistent before. I don't run fast, but I've developed a pretty decent habit of running (albeit sometimes still with walking breaks) three times weekly.
I've always been kind of afraid to push myself to run farther than three miles. I can't explain it really, but I think it is the little fat girl inside of me -- who I was my entire childhood, adolescence, and college years -- thinking that I couldn't possibly do it.
I still have flashbacks of having to run the mile in high school gym class, and having to walk pretty much the whole thing. I blamed "exercise-induced asthma," which I probably never really had.
I remember being 22-years-old and going hiking with my fit boyfriend (now my fit husband!). I could barely breathe when we got to the top of the hill. I blamed the fact that I was a pack-a-day smoker.
Sometimes I can't even believe who I used to be, honestly.
Today, I reached a new personal distance record while running; I ran 4.2 miles.
I ran 4.2 miles.
In a world of marathons and ultra marathons and 100-mile mountain bike races, that sounds like nothing at all. But to me, the little fat girl who had to walk the mile in gym, it's a huge accomplishment.