Monday was the first day of the rest of my life. Well, according to an app I installed on my phone, anyway. I, personally, would argue that the first day was about a month or so ago. The day I scaled a wall. Monday, all I did was start a running program.
Once a week for the past few weeks I’ve been getting out and getting active. I’ve climbed walls. Who cares if I can’t make it to the top yet? I’m making plans to go kayaking. It was suppose to happen a few weeks back but it was a miserable day out. So we’re figuring out plan B. Might make for a late night, but winter is coming so we want to get this done.
Then last Monday, 3 days ago, I put my new sports bras, new app, and new determination to use and I began Day 1, Week 1 of Couch to 5K. Lisa, who has been my physical activity partner in crime, was by my side. My motivation to keep going. I picked a 4 mile trail that was paved and in a park. I knew I was not about to run even a fraction of it. But I figured I’d get through the app and then walk the rest.
I did day 2 this morning. I lay in bed at 8 AM knowing I didn’t have to be anywhere until 12:30. Listing all the parts and pieces of my body that still hurt from Monday. Knowing I could roll over and go back to sleep for a bit. But I dragged my body out of bed. Threw on clothes. Grabbed something light to eat that wouldn’t weigh me down but would give me a boost. I hit the pavement.
At no point on either day did I complete the program by-the-book. Bottom line, I suffer from chronic pain and arthritis. Jogging is not exactly low impact. But I did the best my limitations would allow then a tiny bit more and I’m damn proud.
It’s suppose to be, this week anyway, a 5 minute warm up walk followed by 8 sets of jogging for a minute then walking for 1.5 minutes, then a 5 minute cool down. The whole session takes 30 minutes.
Monday I did about 3 minutes of jogging total but I walked a hell of a lot more than the 22 minutes total since I was on a 4 mile trail.
This morning, I was in a friend’s neighborhood so I could pick the length. I pushed myself to add another minute of jogging, but I didn’t do the full 22 minutes of walking. It’s sort of a trade off, I suppose.
And I’m OK with it. I really am. That was still a hell of a lot more active than I’ve ever been in my entire book worm, couch potato life.
So now I’m determined to get out and hit the pavement 3 times a week. For better or worse, however much I can do. I want to get the heart pumping and in better shape, but I don’t want to blow out a knee or hip sooner than I’m sure I already will. (Thanks genetics!)
With my end goal being to be healthier and able to better keep up with my kids, I don’t need to be able to run a 5K in 30 minutes. I just need to be able to catch a toddler without having a heart attack in the process.
Oh, and our Mondays are still a thing. Sometimes we’ll run. Sometimes we’ll climb. And someday we may finally kayak. And I’m just happy I have someone who is turning out to be a wonderful friend by my side.