Commitment

So, I've taken up running. Well... I say running, but I mean jogging. Well...I say jogging, but I mean walking with a bounce. And by bounce, I mean...bounce. Everything that CAN bounce, DOES bounce!

In May, the youth pastor's cute, trim, perky little wife said she would head up a group of ladies to run in the local 5K to be held in September. A program called "From Couch Potato to 5K." A couple of us said, "yeah, right". She assured us it really WAS for true couch potatoes. And we really COULD run 5K. So amidst cheers, and side jokes, and advice on non-bouncy clothes, several of us jumped on board.

I consulted with my runner friend, and we went shopping for running shoes. GOOD running shoes. Ninety dollars later, I was committed. I have never spent $90 on an entire outfit in my LIFE, so to spend that much on shoes...well, buddy, you better believe I am committed. Totally.

The plan was to start slow...brisk walk for five minutes, then jog for 60 seconds, then walk for two minutes. Who can't do THAT? Piece of cake. No sweat.

Yeah, right. 30 seconds into the run, I was huffing. Then puffing. Every movable body part was starting to move. In a bad way. Thankfully no leering old men were around, or guffawing young men.

But I did it! 60 seconds of jogging. No cardiac arrest, no respiratory failure, no torn ligaments. I was on my way! Immediately upon returning to the house, I pawed through my dresser looking for more "suitable" clothing for jogging...namely something that is too small and tight to even breath, but prevents the bounce effect.

The next day, as I jogged (walked/bounced) I was worried about my future appearance. Would I ever be the same? My sisters moan about their figures, but I hadn't really worried about mine. But now I do. Am I to be stretched irreparably, doomed to be the saggy old lady in the nursing home that everyone talks about? Should I consult with a plastic surgeon now, while I still have some natural shape? Maybe I should reconsider this. I have my husband to think about, you know. Nope. I paid $90 for those shoes, by golly. I'm committed.

So on I jog, for several weeks. My too-small clothing seems to be working. But...When will I get to the point where this is enjoyable? (I've heard that happens.) I see progress...I jog two minutes, three minutes, FIVE minutes at a time. But I am miserable every minute. Twice I jog eight minutes. Then calamity. (Glory be!) My right knee feels a little weird. I think my medial meniscus is a little strained. That is the main weight bearing ligament in the body, ya know, Very Important. So I should take a couple of days off. Nieces and nephews arrive for a week long visit. Then family camping. Then Kaitlyn's two week drama camp. A "couple of days" turns into three weeks.

I feel so discouraged now. While it has been a relief to "just be normal" again, the guilt is not enjoyable. I actually did feel a sense of accomplishment after I ran. When have I EVER run for eight minutes, WITHOUT STOPPING, in my entire life?

My $90 shoes sit in silent condemnation. My motivation. I put them on out of guilt, just to see how they feel. Have I forgotten the support around my arches? Have I forgotten the squishy cushion under my heel? Nobody's home, the evening weather is serene and beautiful. I should take a walk.

A few steps down the road, I wonder, "Could I even jog three minutes now, or have I fallen all the way off the wagon?" So I do a little jog/step, and crisply, with no pressure or expectations, I jog down the road...And I jog down the road...And I jog down the road. What is the MATTER with me? I jog for half a mile before stopping. About five minutes. Oh my goodness! It's like magic! No pain, no strain!

NOW I'm serious. I recommitted. I can do this.

The next day, I push to jog one mile without stopping. I increase a little every time, and the day I jog one & three-fourths mile, Emily is standing at the end, jumping and cheering, and screaming. Sweat running off my face, gasping for air, I grin and raise both hands over my head. Just the two of us, out in the country, on a hot summer day. I feel like a million bucks.

And that's the reason I press on. Partly for me, but mostly for my family. I love a sense of accomplishment, and I want them to personally see that, if this couch potato can do something she has NEVER, EVER done before, something that is HARD work, and takes a ton of persistence, THEY can accomplish exceedingly more than they ever thought possible...if they are committed and don't give up.


And the bounce? Well, it has been tamed by a $10 sports bra from Walmart.