According to my Twitter feed, on September 21 I went on my first jog in about five years. I was inspired after five+ years of laziness by 1. Sundry and all her fitness posts and success and 2. my sister running the Portland marathon. I didn't have any particular goal in mind other than "be less pathetic in the fitness department." I jogged/walked four miles that day and despite gasping for air and having cement blocks for legs, I was feeling pretty proud of myself. Until, of course, I couldn't walk for two days.
So imagine my surprise when on day three I went jogging again. And then I kept going jogging periodically with no particular schedule or pattern but still 3-4 times/week. Granted, we're talking a four mile jog/walk on a really good day and a 1.5 mile walk/crawl on a bad day (or when I am pushing my kid in a jog stroller). [sidebar: I tried jogging with her while she rides her bike and I am a SLOW jogger but she is a REALLY SLOW biker. Gave up on that idea.] But still, somewhat consistent cardiovascular activity. And it seemed to be getting slightly easier.
Then about two weeks ago my sister IM'd me and asked if I wanted to run a half marathon in July in Sonoma. I was in a hurry at work so I said sure. July is a long way off. Then having agreed, I realized I'll probably have to, at some point, run farther than four miles.
Which brings us to today.
A non-work day Monday (love you, part time schedule). Kid was at school (which rarely happens but I had another appointment). Sun was shining. So I coordinated my errands to end at the American River Bike Trail thinking I'd do a long (longer, anyway) run of six miles (or maybe five).
Of course I forgot the iPod but I started out feeling great, the sun was shining, there was a great horse trail paralleling the bike path that made for fun trail running, there were lots of squirrels and birds, the river looked gorgeous, I was breathing hard but feeling fit, I was composing mental blog posts about the wonders of jogging. And then I realized I'd gone 1.5 miles. Hmm. And I forgot my water in the car. And there weren't any drinking fountains between where I started just after the mile 10 marker on the trail and my goal of mile 13 12.5 before turning around.
Still I persevered. Walked a tiny bit and made it to 12.5 and turned back to the car. Then I started to get really miserable. I was running into the sun (no sunglasses). I was really regretting the lack of water (why was it so hot on November 2 anyway?). I was realizing that it was now 1:30 pm and I had eaten a total of 3 cups of coffee and an apple all day (breakfast might have been a good idea). I started getting blisters between my toes (stupid dirt on the stupid trail). By mile 11.5 with less than 1.5 miles to the car I gave up entirely and did what I usually do on crappy runs. I started to look for bits of nature to take home for art projects (remind me to show you what I did with the maple leaves collected during yesterday's crappy run.) So I found two awesome sticks with great jewelry potential. And then I was the crazy woman in a sports bra (long sleeve shirt was a terrible idea) and a face the color of a tomato, walking along the bike trail (occasionally jogging) carrying two giant sticks (like 2 inches wide and 2 feet long giant sticks). Yeah.
I made it back to my car reminded myself to not be such an idiot about running in the heat without water or at least without starting hydrated and then I took a shower and went to Mr. H's work where the bandsaw revealed that the sticks do in fact have awesome jewelry potential and are some of the best sticks I've found. See, it was all worth it. And I almost managed to turn this into a craft post.
Finally, since I don't have photos of my sticks yet, here's what happens when you give the old digital to the four year old.
My mixing bowl:
Her foot
Her foot and her finger
And then several unpostably bad photos of Mr. H and I and about 10 images of her dolly stroller.
That was fun. I'll have to let her use the (old) camera more often.