Conquering the Impossible...for me

I was fortunate in that after Ellie was born I quickly lost not only my pregnancy weight but also an extra 4 or so pounds. I was unfortunate in that, when I stopped nursing, it all came back on plus some because I wasn't being careful about what I ate or burning as many calories during the day. This weekend, while we were riding back from Fowlerville, I looked down to see my spare tire hanging over the top of my jeans. I grabbed a chunk of it and yelled "I hate you!"
"Attack!" Tim encouraged. "Annie with a vengeance!"
I know that he loves me no matter what I look like. I think he just doesn't want to hear me complaining about it 365 days a year for the next 70 years.
So after feeding Ellie her first bottle of the day I placed her between us on our bed. I then woke Tim up by saying, "I'm going for a jog."
"Excuse me?" he asked without opening his eyes.
"I'm going jogging." He opened one eye and smiled. Between us, Ellie made a cooing sound.
"Even Ellie is laughing." This just proves how unathletic I am.
With his disbelief fueling my motivation, I got out of bed and threw on some sweats and a long sleeve shirt over a tee in case the weather was fickle (this is June in Michigan after all.) I grabbed the iPod and laced up my tennis shoes and headed down the driveway excited that I was actually carrying through with this new exercise leaf I had turned over.
With U2's "Vertigo" kicking off my Workout Mix playlist (I have a workout mix that has probably been used for its purpose a handful of times) I started warming up with some walking. The next song came on and I kicked it up a notch to some speed walking, even pumping my arms like the people I see speedwalking on our road.
Fallout Boy's "Dance Dance" entered my ears and I sped up a bit more. I'm running! I thought. OK, jogging...slowly. But I'm moving at a faster speed than a walk!
About two minutes into the song I realized something important: I forgot my inhalor. Praying that I didn't have an exercise induced asthma attack, I tried to focus on my breathing. I mapped out how far I planned on going before turning back and picked a road that I know is a mile from our house. That would mean a two-mile experience today, even if I didn't run all of it...or jog.
As I started to see my marker point, I also started to falter. I'm going to die. I'm not even running full out and I'm going to die. Running is stupid. I thought about my friend, Renee, who I have known for years. She is a runner. She is beyond a runner - she is a cross country coach. I decided that she must be insane as well to enjoy this activity. I then thought about how she would encourage me if she knew what I was doing. She is good at that. I mentally pictured her running beside me (great, now I'm on the verge of hallucinating from this jogging stuff) and giving me encouragement. I ventured on without dropping my speed.
I thought of another old friend, Bekah, who runs. She has done some races this year and I'm proud of her since she is also an asthma victim. She also has very long legs so she would probably be almost done by the time I was halfway through. I wish my legs were longer.
Whenever I am pressed physically, something comes into my head: He is my strength and my redeemer, whom shall I fear? I know this is a combination of a couple different verses but it always helps me out. I think about God giving me strength to do things - even jog - and I can make it a little farther.
I looked again at the distance between me and my turn-around point. Although closer, I still felt like it was forever away. They're going to find me passed out on the sidewalk and not know who I am because I'm not carrying any identification on me. Should I carry identification when I jog? What if I became a murder victim while running? Maybe there is someone watching me even now, paying attention to what time I run and the path I'm covering. Why did my mom have to make me so paranoid?
Finally...finally! I jogged by a little bench and water fountain and turned to head back home. Walking. I made my goal for the day and was going to walk back home. However, I was going to focus on posture while walking. Chin up, abs pulled in, glutes tight...hey, I felt taller and straighter. A minute later I had to remind myself again to tighten the abs and buns. This good posture thing carries a lot to remember when you are trying to change it at an older age. Straight like a board, straight like a board.
Almost home. I have heard about "the runner's high"...all these happy little endorphins being released and making you feel good, refreshed, energized and somewhat sexual. Did I feel like going home to make out with my husband? More like pass out on the couch, I decided. Maybe that one comes with time.
I turned down our road and finally up our driveway. I entered our bedroom to find both kids in bed with Tim. I grabbed some water and then climbed in with them.
"I did it," I told him. "I exercised."
I'm proud of you," he answered. "Good job."
And I felt good, too.