The dreaded day

When I first started the couch 2 5k program, week 5 day 3 seemed years away.

Up to that one day the runs seemed simple enough. Short bursts of running followed by active rest periods are easy enough to handle, but the final day of week 5 made my muscles ache and my lungs struggle to pull in air just from reading about it. 20 minutes of running. No walking.

This morning I woke up with fear in my bones. How did this day sneak up on me so fast. Has it really been 5 weeks already? Even with not resting everyday I was supposed to rest on it doesn't feel like this day should be here. Maybe if I close my eyes I'll wake up and find this is a dream.

close eyes.

open.

Crap.

I rack my brain for any and all excuses I've ever used in the past to get out of a workout. Cramps, nope don't have those. Not enough sleep? but Kohl slept for 6 hours straight last night, the longest stretch of sleep I've gotten since before he was born. Gallbladder pain? Nope that hasn't been acting up either. Everything I could come up with is easily shot down, it actually seems like a perfect day to workout. Double crap.

Four hours later I find myself facing down the treadmill, silently pleading for Kohl to wake up and start crying. At least that isn't an excuse, it's a reason. (ha!) As I set up the treadmill, arranging the nook and hooking it into the speakers I hear no crying children to save me. Guess this is it.

Start.

I walk for 2 minutes just to warm up a bit then when 2:00 is on the tiny monitor I bump it up to 4.8. Take it easy for the first half then bump it up for the second.

10 minutes roll by and I'm feeling the fatigue. I've jogged for 10 minutes straight before but i have always stopped at that. There's no stopping today. Instead I bump up the speed to an even 5mph and give myself a "let's go, pick it up!" in my best Jillian Micheals impersonation.

I start fiddling with the music to distract myself from the growing need to rest that is seeping into my body.

I can do this. I can do this.

6 minutes left. "pump it harder" by the black eyed peas comes on and I start whooping away with the song. Running away, singing at the top of my lungs (well puffing really) I'm no longer paying attention to my form and land on my foot wrong. Crap again.

If you've ever wondered what it's like to fall off a treadmill I'll tell you. Physical it's not to bad. The endorphins from the running masked the pain and it's just one minute you're running the next you're rolling across the computer room floor after you've instinctively tucked and covered. and your 2 year old is yelling from the other room "you alright mama?! You okay?!" at least my welfare is more important to her than her daily Maisy fix. Mentally, that's another story. I'm pretty sure I'm scared for life but so grateful that I have a treadmill at home and didn't just go rolling across a gym with countless sweaty strangers pasting worried looks on their faces while inside they are laughing their asses off at me. Funny, I still don't understand why they have you tethered on, that string didn't do a damn thing to save me.

Get up. Get up. Get up.

I hop back onto the treadmil, plug the little magnetic 'key' back in and hit 5. I will not stop 15 minutes into this run. I WILL finish. It's only 5 more minutes after all.

With my pride completely deflated I start up my verbal encouragement and bump up the speed to 6. As I'm hooting and hollering away to myself I can hear Kailey in the other room mocking me and I remember why I am doing this. One day she'll be able to 'exercises' too and hopefully for her it'll never be a chore. I want for both her and baby brother to always see physical activity as something fun and something necessary. Not just an activity that gets in the way of tv time.

With my motivation renewed I finish the run and even go over 2 minutes to make up for the time I spent stunned on the floor like an overgrown turtle on it's back.

I am proud to say I completed W5D3, something I never, ever would've thought I could do. This chubby kid that became a mildly obese adult after having two kids. The ogre that couldn't even run for a minute straight in high school without puffing for air. I jogged for 20 minutes straight (well minus the mishap.) Not only did I succeed I LIKED it.

Week 6 here I come!