Up until last Tuesday, my work-outs have consisted of an hour of running in place in my bathroom. I got bored and decided to take my work-out outside.
I looked up what distance an hour run would be and found an estimate of five miles. I bought some running shoes and went for it. It was exhausting and beautiful.
After so many months of staring out the bathroom window, suddenly being free was exhilarating—and painful! At the end of the first run I thought I was having nerves shoot sharp pains through my ankles. Turns out I was covered in stickers. That never happened running in the bathroom.
Since then, I’ve run 28.2 miles and my focus has turned from what the scale says (still 153!) to how many miles. The running is more intense and I love the challenge. A curious thing has happened to the heavy, slow and tired office worker from six months ago. I’m turning into an athlete.
For now, the scale seems to be stuck on 153 but I’m told that’s because I’m replacing fat with muscle. That I can believe. For the first time in my life, I don’t mind how my legs look to me. Even more important, every mile I conquer if filling me with confidence. I’ve traveled a long way in half a year and I like it here.