Well, my early birthday present finally arrived. We bought it from a friend who lives in South Florida (Hi Kelly!) and the journey to get it up here involved my cousin and his wife borrowing a pick up truck (Hi Yianni and Tabitha!) and storing it in their garage until my in-laws could pick it up in a U-haul to drive it to Tallahassee (Hi Lorene and Oliver!) at which point my husband drove down to pick it up (Hi Irishman!) and bring it up here while sitting in a very uncomfortable position for 7 hours. Whew, that was quite a journey…as well as one hell of a run-on sentence. Oh, and then my buddy (Hi Al!) had to come over and help us wrangle the beast into a spare bedroom where it will live for all eternity (at least according to my very sweet, but very put out husband). This brings me to 2 points:
1) I feel very loved that so many people would pitch in to help get a 265 lb. 6’2″ treadmill to my house over 800 miles away from it’s original destination.
2) I feel compelled to make excellent use of my new exercise machinery (which won’t be a problem at all).
So last night, I took it for it’s inaugural spin. I was giddy over the novelty of getting to just walk downstairs to use a treadmill. There was no driving to the gym, no concern over my attire or the weather, no concern over anything at all. In fact, I practically threw the baby at the Irishman when he walked in the door from work so that I could head down there to run. I felt like a junkie about to get my fix (not that I know what that feels like, but after spending a couple of years working in a prison and watching some HBO specials back in the day, I’ve heard things).
I hopped on, turned it on and I was off! Woohoo! I was running! In my house! I had the music cranked up and a smile on my face and then I had a thought that was quite profound.
“Dang, I am out of shape!”
Just over a year ago, I wouldn’t have even left my house to complete a run that was less than 4 miles (and I was embarrassed to admit doing anything less than 5 miles). Last night, I did just 1.8 miles before I had to take a walk break. You have no idea how hard that is for me to admit. But you know what, that’s how it goes.
What’s funny is that it officially brings this blog full circle. When I first started training for my marathon, 1.8 miles is the exact distance that I went on my first day of running. I felt overwhelmed by the thought of making it to 26.2 miles, but I did it. And you know what? I can do it again. Now that I have a specific marathon in mind at the moment, but I know what it takes to build my endurance back up and I am committed to working on it 3 days a week, week after week until I can do an easy 5-miler while I’m half asleep.