52 New Things -- Week 13 -- Running

Before you ask, no, I do not have a head injury. I'm sure you're going to wonder that when you find out that I, the woman who has always said, "Only run if you're being chased!" ran today. Nope.

I blame Colorado. It was just so gosh darn beautiful last week with the blue skies and the sunshine that I couldn't help but dream of being active outside. Plus I did a fair amount of huffing and puffing every time I walked up a slight incline. I blamed the high altitude, but let's be honest: it's been a long Minnesota winter. Being a fair-weather walker, I spent many, many more nights on the couch than getting exercise of any form. A couple of weeks ago, while I was getting undressed, Kevin looked at me and said, "We need to start working out again." I threw my pants at him and stomped out of the room.

"I said 'we,'" he called after me.

(The next day, when I'd calmed down, we had a long talk about our needs . . . like his need for me to communicate instead of stomp away, and my need for him to not imply that I'm fat if he ever wants to have sex with me ever again.)

So yeah, getting in shape wouldn't kill me . . . or would it? I hate running. Too much jiggling. Too many cramps. But I read a magazine article about Jamie Lee Curtis doing a 5K after downloading this C25K app, so I thought, heck, if a 54-year-old woman can do this, I can, too, right?

Free download = no risk. If it stunk, I'd be out nothing. The premise? By starting out slowly, alternating walking and running, you'll build up your stamina and be running a 5K at the end of eight weeks. Color me skeptical.

Today was day one. Here's how it went down:

3:45 Get home from school. Promptly sit on couch. Fiddle with iPhone to figure out how to make a playlist. Wonder why only twenty songs show up on my phone when I've got a bazillion on iTunes. Realize what a waste it is for someone like me to have a smartphone.

3:50 Playlist done on phone, try to figure out what one wears to run. Completely unaware. Put on two sports bras in an effort to reduce jiggling. Wear two layers of everything else since running sounded a lot better in sunny Colorado than 35-degree Minnesota.

3:55 Search three junk drawers for the ear buds that came with the iPhone. After finally finding them, spend several seconds flipping the iPhone around before figuring out where to insert the jack.

4:00 Leave apartment. Go right back in to get hat and gloves.

4:01 Begin five-minute "brisk warm-up." Heavy D and the Boys begin singing "Now That We Found Love" in the background. Try to remember what it was that Heavy D died from and figure probably a heart attack. Walk faster in an effort to not die the same way or garner a similar nickname.

4:06 A Tinkerbell-ish ding sounds and a soothing voice says to begin running. Take a deep breath and take off . . . at a sloth-like pace. Wonder why I didn't drive out to a deserted country road so that no one would see me. Also, wonder how one is supposed to run -- on the balls of your feet? Rolling from heel to ball? Flat-footed landings? No idea what proper form is, other than staying upright, which is taking a great amount of concentration.

4:07 Tinkerbell-ish ding and instruction to "begin walking." Not bad. Not good, but I made it a whole minute. Yay me!

4:09 Tinkerbell ding lady says to start running again. So soon??

4:09:30 Leg cramp . . . run through the pain.

4:10 Ding and walk. Thank God. I thought I might puke up those Special K bars I ate at school. Someone brought those yummy treats into the teachers' lounge today and I ate not one, not two -- I'll skip right over three and tell you -- I ate FOUR of those darn things over the course of the afternoon. They are now churning in there.

4:12 Ding and run. Seriously? Already? You're killing me, ding lady. I listen to Metro Station sing "Shake It" and remember happy times with youth group kids. Yay for ribbon dancing. Disassociation or something, right? Isn't that what hostages do? Go to a happy place when being tortured?

4:13 Ding and walk. Try to do some mental math, which is never easy for an English major. A twenty minute program, and with five minutes of warm up, that's only fifteen minutes . . . plus maybe a five minute cool-down at the end, so that's only ten, and over half of it is walking, so I won't be running all that much . . . I mean, I'm probably almost done already, right?

4:15 Ding and run. That seriously cannot have been the whole rest period.

4:16 Ding and walk. Oh, Special K Bars with your chewy, gooey goodness and your delicious chocolate frosting . . . please stay down. Almost done.

4:16:30 Think I'm having a heart attack but then realize the pain is on the wrong side of my chest. And it's more external than internal. Make mental note to wear three sports bras tomorrow.

4:18 Ding and run. The ding is followed by a chipper announcement that I am halfway there! Halfway? I think hateful thoughts toward the disembodied voice as I realize the twenty minutes do not include the warm up or cool down.

4:19 Ding and walk. Oh. Oh. I'm dying. I'm pretty sure.

4:21 Ding and run. I plod along with the grace of a wounded gazelle, wondering how many people are looking out their windows and judging me.

4:22 Ding and walk. Thank you, Jesus.

4:24 Ding and run. Wish someone had taught me how to run at some point in my life since it obviously does not come naturally. Think back to high school P.E. and the curriculum that could easily have been called "Ten Variations on Dodge Ball." Awesome at the time, but not so useful lifeskill-wise . . .

4:25 Ding and walk. Notice that my walk has gotten considerably slower since I started.

4:27 Ding and run. Decide I am probably doing irreparable damage to my spine and stuff. Wonder why no one has invented a workout called "Gentle Stretches on a Queen-Sized Bed." I could jump on that train whole-heartedly.

4:28 Ding and walk. One minute to go, the trainer lady says. Hallellujah. I was about to start repeating what I'd heard in church on Friday re: forsaking, but I didn't want to get all melodramatic up in here.

4:29. Ding and instruction to "begin cool down." Oh honey, I started that a minute ago without you telling me to.

4:31 Arrive back at apartment and do some stretches on the front step. High school girls track team runs by . . . effortlessly. Sigh.

4:34 Ding and a message that my cool down walk is now over. Lady, I am already on my couch. You don't have to tell me to stop.

So yeah . . . I mean, I didn't die, so I've got that going for me, but I have to tell you that I am definitely not looking forward to repeating this tomorrow. Now excuse me while I go ice my hip . . .