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.