Well, I'll be!

 

I'm not sure how the challenges work via an Apple Watch. Is it individual and random? Is it individual and based on previous totals? Is it the same for everyone who wears one? I haven't asked another real person, so your guess is as good as mine. Here was my December challenge (I know it's tiny, click on it so you can see it larger)- you can see I'm not quite there but I'm so very close. 

I know 2020 brought a lot of ridiculousness with it and I understand that that's putting it nicely for some of you who have suffered very real losses. I don't mean to downplay any of that. There were also opportunities, such as being home with our kiddos for pretty much nine months straight... 

Well, okay, that clearly falls under more than one category and it's not always "opportunity" and I feel perfectly justified in acknowledging that. I'm fairly sure anyone with children would admit that there are times when you absolutely need to get away from them and that does not indicate that you're a bad parent or that they're bad kids. It proves you have a healthy mental outlook, I think! Save our Sanity!

2020 provided me with the previously unthinkable: 

I became a runner. 

That is, in the sense that a runner = one who runs. 

I'm still staggered that I'm talking about me, the one who absolutely loves the 0.0 bumper stickers that proudly claim, "I don't run" in the face of all the just-as-proud 13.1 and 26.2 stickers. I'd wanted one of those stickers for Pepe but never got around to it and now I can't because this fall I started running.

Some of you who've known me forever are probably like, "shut the front door! What!? Since when? What changed!?"

I was thinking about that today on my walk in the 30 degree weather and I decided it was a combination of things.

One, the aforementioned many months in the house with These People that I Live With. It is nice to have an outlet that they're not terribly interested in.

Two, I figured since it's more of a "when I get covid" instead of an "if I get covid", I might as well have my lungs in the best possible shape going into it. I know exercise does good things in that department, and I really do feel like now my lungs are as strong as they were when Dada and I were training for the Bike to the Bay in 2017, pre-cancer. That's exciting and gratifying.

Three, I've always loved going for walks yet I haven't been a fan of running since I was a kid. I felt having to do laps in gym class and forced track and field days took the fun out of running for pleasure like on-the-spot races with friends. 

But I always liked the idea of being a runner. Except that meant I'd have to run. Ugh.

Four, I ran across an editorial about someone who'd declared she would never be a runner. Then she stopped to think about that and decided that she was limiting herself, boxing herself into a "never." The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why I (or anyone) would do that. It was kind of the kick in the pants I needed.

 I decided to try it. I thought I'd probably fall down dead in a ditch (there are LOTS of ditches in our neck of Ohio. TONS.) after just a little while. Sometimes Dada graciously went with me and sometimes I went alone. I bought new shoes. Now I had to do it, right? Spent the money, now just go do it. 

So I did. Sometimes it gets easier, though I haven't experienced that "runner's high" yet- pretty sure that's a myth or else I'm not running long enough. Sometimes it feels like someone is winding the sidewalk ever longer and that I will never, ever make it to that stop sign, but I can make it to that driveway or maybe even that fire hydrant or, now that it's Christmas, that blow up Buddy the Elf. Sometimes I can do a whole strip and sometimes I plan to die quietly on the golf cart trail so someone will find my body sooner rather than later. 

I've discovered that my legs seem to understand what's going on and for the most part they are very cooperative. They could keep on doing their thing without much input from me.

Which is great because sometimes the aforementioned lungs are like, "what the (insert pirate-y language here) does she think she is doing? This again? Oh for the love." 

You wouldn't think breathing would be the hard part. Sometimes I just feel like there's not enough air, which is ridiculous as I'm outside and you can't get any more air than that. Apparently there are things to learn about breathing, who knew? I'm eternally grateful that God created us with lungs which would breathe on their own when we forget to. Thank goodness. I'm still figuring out the whole breathe-in-for-this-count-hold-breathe-out-for-that-count thing. It'll take awhile. I now know why runners rarely look like they're having fun. They're busy trying to breathe, to not die, to remember where the mean dogs are, to watch for the slippery parts of sidewalks, to figure out where to cross the street. Clear your head, my foot! Again, good thing legs know what to do because if I had to tell them on top of everything else that poor Brain is attempting, we'd be stopped. 

I've only done a dozen runs in 2020. And see, that right there is what I'm up against- myself. Why did I write "only" when I should be proud that I've done a dozen of something I'd sworn I'd never do? Sometimes it's really hard to get out of your own head. Days when I can't run the same segment I'd done in a previous run are very irritating; "why is this so hard!? I did it last time!" My mom has called me the least competitive person she knows, and that's probably true when it comes to myself vs others. All my competition comes to a head with myself, just like all my self esteem issues stem from "will I measure up" and "will I be good enough" vs "do I look okay?" It's why breast cancer treatment wasn't as hard in a lot of ways as writing a book or painting would be. Hair comes and goes; I'm okay with or without. Same with boobs. I didn't mind mine until they started being sneaky, and I'm fine without them. Plus, there are two distinct benefits of running with a flat chest: no bounce and no under-boob sweat! 

I've discovered I'm also a fair-weather runner, which should surprise exactly none of you, and if it's below 50 degrees then a run ain't happenin' because I'll possibly be wearing leggings under my pants as it is. So I go for walks. I've figured out a relatively safe, slightly over two mile loop and now a three mile one as well. And yes, we have parks with trails, but I think I'll stick to sidewalks and streets first before I go crazy with the tree roots, walnuts, and wet leaves underfoot. 

All that to say this: try something new in 2021. I don't know that the weather will cooperate at all for me to run again until maybe March. Maybe. But I can walk. I was thinking today about how my Grammy loved tramping through the woods and fields, and here I am, rambling about, trying to get my miles in. I'm sure when warmer weather rolls around that I'll find many things I'd rather be doing than exercising (reading, for one), but maybe my watch or one of my apps will have a challenge that sounds doable that I won't hate doing. 

And who knows? Maybe I will learn to love it.

So tell me: what have you put off trying because 2020 has been a dumpster fire? What's holding you back? What are you waiting for? If you need permission, here's mine: 

Go try it. You're allowed to hate it. You're allowed to quit. But if you give it a shot, you might surprise yourself and everyone around you. And we all want someone to cheer on these days. So go for it! And tell me about it so I can check on you. 

Happy New Year!