Tomorrow I am going to "run" in a 5K race--something I NEVER expected to attempt, on purpose. I keep telling myself "because I didn't train, then I will just have to walk the majority of it." But somehow, that seems more like a copout and I am sick of giving myself exceptions to my goals. What would happen if I actually tried to run the majority of the race? Would I die? Probably. But, maybe not. We'll see.
I think that the real problem here is in my mind. I have always looked at people that run, and like to exercise in general, with a certain amount of disdain and pity. Like, "you poor thing...you've obviously never tried eating...it feels a LOT better than running...you must not have ever eaten well" or "what a fanatic...I'm glad I'm not in any way athletic." But the thing is, when I was little I was pretty athletic, actually. I used to climb to the top of the metal swingset and do flips and twirls like I was in the olympics. Mom would always say "you have great upper-body strength." So why do I have this huge disconnect in my adult life?
What is really funny is that, physically, I actually enjoy exercising--I enjoy running. Who knew? But mentally, I still have a block. I always think to myself "who do you think you are, pretending that you can do this?" "you are just not the exercise type" "you are big-boned, get used to it!" "you will never make it to the end of this race, that is just not the kind of person you are." "you will be plump all your life, you've always been that way and you will always stay that way" "you cannot love to cook and eat and also love to exercise and run" The other day, I was at the gym running on the treadmill and I saw some people outside running. My immediate thought was, again, disdain and disgust. "Oooooo, who would want to ever run, what wierdos, what fanatics." It took me, literally several minutes to make the connection that I was indeed running too. Hello?
Yet writing this all down, I'm beginning to think that maybe I can do this afterall.
