Enjoying the pain. I’ve earned it.

April 25, 2010 § Leave a comment

About, pssssssssshhh, I don’t know….8 weeks ago, I decided to start running.  Before you think I’ve jumped on board the crazy train, hear me out.  First, we all know that I already have a first-class ticket on board the crazy train.  I’m quite comfortable camped out in seat 4D (I’m a window seat sort of girl.)  Second, it’s not that ridiculous of an idea.  Right?

About 10 years ago…no, 8 years ago?  I don’t know, y’all.  A while ago. (It seems I have issues remembering timelines for certain things.)  Anyway, I was playing ultimate frisbee once a week.  About an hour or so into play, I was done.  My right knee and hip would be in severe pain and I’d be forced to tap out.  After visits to multiple doctors and then a specialist I was informed I suffered from Patellofemoral Syndrome.  Note: I had to look that up.  Usually, I just say I was diagnosed with patellofuuuuuuuhhhfarfennoogen syndrome.  Basically, my patella didn’t sit where it was supposed to and was causing great inflammation in my knee.
And I shouldn’t run.
Okeedokee, I say.  Can I still dance?
Yes, they say.  It’ll be very hard the next day, but shouldn’t cause any major damage.
Done and done, I say.
And it was hard.  While living with my folks for about a year, I would go dancing and be forced to crawl, literally crawl, up and down the stairs the next morning.  No, there is not video (that I know of).  No, I will not reenact it for you.

The thing is, my momma will tell anyone who will listen that I was born to run.  She speaks fondly of how I begged and pleaded to be “it” during tag.  If you haven’t been around long, I played backyard football growing up, rode a bike everywhere, and I enjoy getting dirty and walking around without shoes to this very day.  For the select few of you that have seen my scarred up knees, you know I speak truth.  The word “tomboy” has been used on more than one occasion.

Honestly, I have come to believe that we are all made to run.  There is something in our genetic makeup that wills the body to run.  We’re built for it.  Nicole believes this to the point that she feels that shoes are pointless.  She bought some of those barefoot gripper shoes with the individual toes.  She looks like a freak show.  But, she says it helps.

So, I started running as far as I could.  The first time I wound up wheezing like a daily smoker.  I think I lasted all of a minute and a half.  Tops.  Though I run with friends, one of them is training for a half-marathon.  Chyah.  She’s in much MUCH better shape than me.

Last week, while running with JMoss, Dana, and Nicole, I hit the 0.8 mile mark.  JMoss kept it entertaining and it made a lot of difference.  Running in just a tank did, too.  My body temp must have dropped a whole 439 degrees.  In the past week, I have consistently been able to run for 5 straight minutes, walk for a minute or so, and then keep running for another five.  Granted, that’s with no incline or a negative incline, but I’m not wheezing!  Progress.  YESSSSSS.

On the whole, running has been a good change.  A decent amount of pain, but good pain.  Things are improving pain.  Watching my legs change and the rest of my body change is a bit surreal.  Good surreal, but still kind of…well….weird.  I’ve had this body since 6th grade.  I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what I will do with a new one.
And then, because I love the pain…
I signed up for personal training at the N.C. State gym, which makes Gold’s Gym look like an old man prancing around in his Speedos.
A for effort, darlin’.

I march in, introduce myself to Masheena, and ask about trainers.  She asks me to fill out a form and wants to know what I’m looking for.
“Honestly, when I’m asked to do something and fight back with grunting or cursing, I need that person to fight me, with grunting and cursing.  Basically, they need to fight back when I push back.”
“Oh.  Gus.”
Well, okeedokee then!  Apparently, in the next few weeks, I’ll be meeting Gus.
I’m really not sure that I’m prepared for this.
But, I will not quit.

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