Doing a new thing

Last week, I got myself back onto the treadmill and outside, walking again. No pun intended - but I started taking more steps in taking better care of myself both in terms of exercise but also mental health and even spiritual health (when I pray as I walk). It felt good to get moving in light of the emotional week I was having last week.

On the treadmill, I pushed myself more than usual. I let the machine raise and lower the incline and I really worked. At one point, on one of the flatter portions, I even ran. Not much or for very long, but I ran.

And that's the new thing.

Some people run. I don't get it - I really don't. They love it. They are devoted to it, the way I used to be devoted to eating a bowl of ice cream or some lovely sushi with tempura-fried shrimp on top. I have never understood running, and so I was surprised, last week, to find myself actually running.

I started thinking about my history with running and - OUCH! - wow, did that ever hit a painful nerve. I remembered what I felt like in gym class in middle school (yes, the memories run deep) - I was the overweight one, the slow one, the one for whom running was challenging, the one who didn't even know how to run. I envied kids for whom running came naturally. I plodded along - with not one encouraging voice around me (or so it seemed).

If you think these things don't make a big difference in someone's life - you're wrong.

In high school, I was in marching band, so I marched, I didn't run. Because I didn't have to run, I didn't. I had to run every so often in P.E. in college, but it was always combined with lots of walking and huffing and puffing and an overall presentation of misery - so I didn't run much.

I'm not sure what clicked in me exactly last week that got me punching up the speed on the treadmill, taking a short run. But I did it, and I didn't die, I didn't fall over, and I didn't even have to stop  altogether. I ran as long as I thought I could, and then a bit past that point, and then I went back to walking.

So, with all the emotion of last week of losing another person to ovarian cancer (my mom also died of it - and there have been others I've known), I started thinking about an idea I'd had years ago. I live in a pretty big metropolitan area, and I figured - there must be SOME kind of 5K or something for ovarian cancer awareness.

And I found this: the National Ovarian Cancer Coalition Run Walk 5K, which in our area, is held in September.

"September?" I thought. "Well, it's only June! I can be ready by September, surely...!"

I've never done anything like this before in my life. Ever. But - I'm going to do it!

I find that I am really, really excited to try this particular new thing. I'm also nervous. But I already have several folks cheering me on - including Hubby and some good friends. I already have people saying, "Yes - I want to do that with you!" And I've already started taking some steps to get ready. I'm not sure how much I'll run and how much I'll walk - but that doesn't really matter. What matters is doing it.

I will keep you posted!