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Aug. 8th, 2012 10:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesmisloonySO GUESS WHAT. I have today begun... running. :D
Okay, so the backstory is, as a person who grew up with a mother OBSESSED with weight loss, I'm trying to not be her and to be happy with the body I seem to have inherited from her. I watched her go to the gym all the time and never lose any weight, so I figured gyms/exercising were pointless for me, since they seemed to be pointless for her. Only recently did it occur to me that it wasn't all about losing weight (seriously, when I was a kid even organized sports were something I thought I was doing to try to get skinny, so I figured they were pointless too) but about not letting your body fall apart.
I spent the year working for a really sporty family, like UGH sporty. I also come from a drama-teacher-mom background where I resented the sports half of the school because they got all the funding that the arts needed. Yes, that means that the beginning of Glee was true. My mom was Will Schuester and the whole rest of the world was Sue Sylvester. So yeah. I grew up thinking exercise was pointless since it didn't lead to weight loss AND organized sports were evil.
But lately I've noticed with displeasure that I am a hot mess. It started when running for a train (I was only a few feet away) and arriving on board so breathless I panted all the way to my stop. It was embarrassing. Then I took the kid to the pool my last week of work and ended up swimming two laps to race him, and again I was totally beat by the end. TWO LAPS?!? In college I swam for fun a few times and always got up to at least 50, even 100 before I lost interest! Yesterday I leaned backwards over a railing to try to pop my spine and when I leaned back up I was, you guessed it, out of breath. FROM BENDING OVER BACKWARDS. So I started to worry that I was about to kill myself if I didn't shape up. I'm also tired, like, all the time.
Anyway, I've never done any sort of exercise in my life other than that bit of swimming in college, so I had to start quite literally at nothing. I found a cheap sports store in Paris, Decathlon, where I got two sports bras, two sportsy shirts, and a pair of tennis shoes for about €50. Nice, right? I also found a nine-week plan online to ease yourself into a running routine. The plan wants you to run two or three times a week. I originally intended to only do it once, but after day one I might change my mind. After all, I have literally nothing else to do with myself for the month of August.
Today I brought my exciting new sports clothes home (all in shades of bright pink and blue and purple yayyy why am I so femme all the time) and, since I was already wearing tights and already had my hair in a bun, I changed into my new running outfit. I put some white pyjama shorts on over the tights and hung my keys around my neck (they were given to me on a lanyard). Sweetness!
The instructions for week one are this: "Brisk five-minute warm-up walk. Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes." I was like, HA, BRING THAT ON.
Oh it got brought. I felt a little self-conscious as I headed out on my five-minute warm-up walk, but when I passed two other runners going the other way (grinning like an idiot at both of them because somehow I guess I wanted us to immediately be friends) I relaxed a little. I had to remind myself that no one knew it was my first time. No one knew how long I'd been out running or walking, and even if someone was judging me for ANYTHING--my clothes, my unathleticness--ANYTHING, it didn't matter at all. That's a lesson I have to repeat to myself almost daily anyway.
Once a full song and a half had finished on my iPod, I decided the time had come for my first sixty seconds of running. Sixty seconds, I thought? Ha!
I was wrong. Remember the story about being out-of-breath after running a few feet to catch a train? WELL THAT STILL APPLIED. My instinct was to stop running after fifteen seconds--yes, FIFTEEN!--but I pushed on. Around forty seconds I was convinced I was going to die. I could barely breathe and the skin on my face was BURNING. It was nonsense! This is exactly why the running must start.
I barely made it to the word "sixty!" in my head before I happily dropped back into a walk. I was basically wheezing. The plan said to walk ninety seconds before doing another run, but I couldn't do it. I think I walked three minutes before I came to another straight stretch of sidewalk (I meant to do this in a park, but I left the house at 9pm and the park had been closed for an hour) where I threw myself forward and, despite my aching lungs, forced another sixty seconds of running out of myself. After this one I was clutching my side and panting when I fell back to a walk, but I didn't stop. Once I've gotten out of the house, I do whatever it was that I put on a bra for, so help me.
At this point I was really displeased to see that I was less than halfway done with my allotted twenty minutes. I walked probably another three minutes before finally gathering the courage to do another sixty seconds of running. It was harrowing. I think I managed two minutes before I broke into my next run, and by thirty I was ready to collapse but I forced myself to carry on. I was feeling the burn in my legs at this point, and I knew my previously-controlled (ish) panting had just become gasping for air. I wanted to scream when I realized I was only at thirty-five, wondering how in the world I was ever supposed to make it all the way to sixty. Somehow I did, but I was feeling so ragged that I cut the routine short five minutes and "briskly" walked home. I stretched my leg muscles (the internet said to do that after) and went into the house, feeling very smug.
Weird fact: when I got in I suddenly didn't have the urge to snack anymore. I chugged water and took a cool shower (which felt AMAZING, especially on the top of my head, wow) and changed into my comfiest pyjamas.
I think my overall reaction to today's work is just a whole lotta smugness and self-congratulation. I definitely feel good--some of my back pain (from my weird mattress) seems to have eased up a little! Even now my skin is really flushed from the unusual exertion.
It was exhausting and kind of scary, but instead of feeling like "OH GOD, NEVER AGAIN" my reaction is more of a "..sooooon.... yessss" sentiment. I'm very satisfied with my sketchy accomplishments--and pretty horrified at how little stamina I have!
Soooooon.
Also I plan to make this a habit, mostly cause I'm interested in seeing what happens with my progress in this. So it has a tag now. :D
Okay, so the backstory is, as a person who grew up with a mother OBSESSED with weight loss, I'm trying to not be her and to be happy with the body I seem to have inherited from her. I watched her go to the gym all the time and never lose any weight, so I figured gyms/exercising were pointless for me, since they seemed to be pointless for her. Only recently did it occur to me that it wasn't all about losing weight (seriously, when I was a kid even organized sports were something I thought I was doing to try to get skinny, so I figured they were pointless too) but about not letting your body fall apart.
I spent the year working for a really sporty family, like UGH sporty. I also come from a drama-teacher-mom background where I resented the sports half of the school because they got all the funding that the arts needed. Yes, that means that the beginning of Glee was true. My mom was Will Schuester and the whole rest of the world was Sue Sylvester. So yeah. I grew up thinking exercise was pointless since it didn't lead to weight loss AND organized sports were evil.
But lately I've noticed with displeasure that I am a hot mess. It started when running for a train (I was only a few feet away) and arriving on board so breathless I panted all the way to my stop. It was embarrassing. Then I took the kid to the pool my last week of work and ended up swimming two laps to race him, and again I was totally beat by the end. TWO LAPS?!? In college I swam for fun a few times and always got up to at least 50, even 100 before I lost interest! Yesterday I leaned backwards over a railing to try to pop my spine and when I leaned back up I was, you guessed it, out of breath. FROM BENDING OVER BACKWARDS. So I started to worry that I was about to kill myself if I didn't shape up. I'm also tired, like, all the time.
Anyway, I've never done any sort of exercise in my life other than that bit of swimming in college, so I had to start quite literally at nothing. I found a cheap sports store in Paris, Decathlon, where I got two sports bras, two sportsy shirts, and a pair of tennis shoes for about €50. Nice, right? I also found a nine-week plan online to ease yourself into a running routine. The plan wants you to run two or three times a week. I originally intended to only do it once, but after day one I might change my mind. After all, I have literally nothing else to do with myself for the month of August.
Today I brought my exciting new sports clothes home (all in shades of bright pink and blue and purple yayyy why am I so femme all the time) and, since I was already wearing tights and already had my hair in a bun, I changed into my new running outfit. I put some white pyjama shorts on over the tights and hung my keys around my neck (they were given to me on a lanyard). Sweetness!
The instructions for week one are this: "Brisk five-minute warm-up walk. Then alternate 60 seconds of jogging and 90 seconds of walking for a total of 20 minutes." I was like, HA, BRING THAT ON.
Oh it got brought. I felt a little self-conscious as I headed out on my five-minute warm-up walk, but when I passed two other runners going the other way (grinning like an idiot at both of them because somehow I guess I wanted us to immediately be friends) I relaxed a little. I had to remind myself that no one knew it was my first time. No one knew how long I'd been out running or walking, and even if someone was judging me for ANYTHING--my clothes, my unathleticness--ANYTHING, it didn't matter at all. That's a lesson I have to repeat to myself almost daily anyway.
Once a full song and a half had finished on my iPod, I decided the time had come for my first sixty seconds of running. Sixty seconds, I thought? Ha!
I was wrong. Remember the story about being out-of-breath after running a few feet to catch a train? WELL THAT STILL APPLIED. My instinct was to stop running after fifteen seconds--yes, FIFTEEN!--but I pushed on. Around forty seconds I was convinced I was going to die. I could barely breathe and the skin on my face was BURNING. It was nonsense! This is exactly why the running must start.
I barely made it to the word "sixty!" in my head before I happily dropped back into a walk. I was basically wheezing. The plan said to walk ninety seconds before doing another run, but I couldn't do it. I think I walked three minutes before I came to another straight stretch of sidewalk (I meant to do this in a park, but I left the house at 9pm and the park had been closed for an hour) where I threw myself forward and, despite my aching lungs, forced another sixty seconds of running out of myself. After this one I was clutching my side and panting when I fell back to a walk, but I didn't stop. Once I've gotten out of the house, I do whatever it was that I put on a bra for, so help me.
At this point I was really displeased to see that I was less than halfway done with my allotted twenty minutes. I walked probably another three minutes before finally gathering the courage to do another sixty seconds of running. It was harrowing. I think I managed two minutes before I broke into my next run, and by thirty I was ready to collapse but I forced myself to carry on. I was feeling the burn in my legs at this point, and I knew my previously-controlled (ish) panting had just become gasping for air. I wanted to scream when I realized I was only at thirty-five, wondering how in the world I was ever supposed to make it all the way to sixty. Somehow I did, but I was feeling so ragged that I cut the routine short five minutes and "briskly" walked home. I stretched my leg muscles (the internet said to do that after) and went into the house, feeling very smug.
Weird fact: when I got in I suddenly didn't have the urge to snack anymore. I chugged water and took a cool shower (which felt AMAZING, especially on the top of my head, wow) and changed into my comfiest pyjamas.
I think my overall reaction to today's work is just a whole lotta smugness and self-congratulation. I definitely feel good--some of my back pain (from my weird mattress) seems to have eased up a little! Even now my skin is really flushed from the unusual exertion.
It was exhausting and kind of scary, but instead of feeling like "OH GOD, NEVER AGAIN" my reaction is more of a "..sooooon.... yessss" sentiment. I'm very satisfied with my sketchy accomplishments--and pretty horrified at how little stamina I have!
Soooooon.
Also I plan to make this a habit, mostly cause I'm interested in seeing what happens with my progress in this. So it has a tag now. :D
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
s
Date: 2012-08-08 10:34 pm (UTC)But anyhow, I just wanted to let you know that I am so amazed and proud of you for living your dreams in France, and I do think of the fun times in Joyner often - we did have some CRAZY spastic times. :)
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 01:59 pm (UTC)And wow, I think about how lucky I was to live on such a great hall all the time. Adult life (or rather, au pair life) is nowhere near as happy and fun as dorm life. I even miss Beanie closing my door for me sometimes!
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 10:43 pm (UTC)Thanks though, I really am a lot happier now and a lot more satisfied with my life - although I have a long way to go still!
And I'm so glad that you're going to finish your novel!! Richmulian forever :)
no subject
Date: 2012-08-08 11:40 pm (UTC)Now, if you miss a day, it's really easy to end up missing a lot of days and end up having to start all over. Which is where I am. I got to where I could do 5 minutes jogging to start, then 2 minute intervals to fill up the rest of the 15 minutes, but the rain and the heat have been keeping me in and apathy has been keeping me in on the decent days. I will start over with you! We are awesome and can do this! (and I have pink running shorts and a tie-dye sports bra *g*)
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 02:04 pm (UTC)I *think* I was only jogging yesterday? I don't 100% know the difference between jogging and running, but I wasn't going super fast, I was just picking up my feet more than walking, I guess.
Also wow my legs are kinda sore and stiff today. But since it's 4pm and I'm still rolling around on the couch in my pyjamas, I might try the jogging adventure again around 7 when the park is still open. Honestly my favorite part is putting on the outfit, haha.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 04:01 am (UTC)That being said, there is some good news: The human body is extremely adaptable and even at my 320-ish pounds, when I started exercising everyday, it took not very much time at all for me to be comfortable with upping the intensity of my workouts. So don't feel discouraged that you can't do much now, because you will probably start to get better pretty quickly if you stick with it.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 02:07 pm (UTC)Honestly that's another reason I decided to start running: if anyone comes at me for my weight again I want to be like BITCH WANNA RACE ME? But right now I'm afraid that race would only serve to prove them right...
no subject
Date: 2012-08-09 02:22 pm (UTC)BUT... my legs have been on vacation for a LONG time. I went jogging along with some friends who were on roller blades and was ashamed to discover how out of shape I really was in that regard. I want to start working on that, it would be nice to be able to walk/jog without feeling like my legs will fall off afterwards (and my heart explode out of my chest).
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Date: 2012-08-11 07:00 am (UTC)