I Did Something Crazy and Desperate

So maybe it was in March. You know when you read something on the internet about looking at your oldest photos on Facebook, just don't do it. Because it will lead to this.

So there I was, crying and drinking under my desk (no not really) and I was desperate to make a change. You know that all the greatest turnarounds in life come when you hit rock-bottom. So in the throes of fear and desperation,  I made a decision. I registered for a 10K run. I am a registered participant for the Music City July 4th 5k/10K. If you click through to the website you'll see happy people running! Looking at those people as I registered I thought, I could be one of those happy people! I had plenty of time to train. I knew that if I just stuck with it, I could be come a runner! 

Look how confidant and satisfied she looks.

So I got myself a Couch to 10K program which needed me to start a couch to 5k first. And I began. On my first day of training,  I discovered something very real and very true about myself. Something I had previously suspected, but something which, in that moment, became abundantly clear. I hate running. I hate all the running ever. I don't even "run". I do some kind of shuffling/loping/dying type of activity I generously call "running". Since April, I have randomly, irregularly, sporadically kept up some sort of illusion that I am training. In fact on vacation in Florida I went out for a run, determined to somewhat stay on a track of sorts. It was a hot, sweaty, painful and seemingly eternal experience. It wouldn't stop. I never seemed to get back to my condo. Until I finally did and went swimming in my clothes. 

This is a damn lie. When you stop running, it stops hurting. 

Yesterday, ten days later, I woke up somewhat early with a half-hearted desire to go for a quick run. I was almost seduced back to sleep by my comfy bed when I consulted my calendar and counted only 19 DAYS until my 10K!  A 10-Kilometer course is roughly 6 miles. SIX MILES! I will have to run six miles. All at one time! I got up, put my sneakers on and hit the asphalt. And immediately wondered why I did this to myself. It's the worst. It hurts. It's no fun. I cursed whoever it was that came up with running as a hobby.  I grudgingly realized I was running for longer bouts before I had to stop and walk. And my walk/recovery times were shorter. So somehow, despite all my efforts to the contrary I'm making progress. 

 I don't know. I'm going to get through it because I don't think a 10K will technically kill me. But ugh. I only have an hour and a half to finish. Will it be enough time?? 

This is my mantra. 

So basically, this is bad news for you. I'm really sorry. If there's anything in your life that you've wanted to achieve but you haven't yet because you know how hard it's going to be, I get that. Normally I'd say, keep procrastinating! If you don't try, you can't fail. But after July 4th, the pressure to do that thing increases. Because, if Corrie Cron can actually do a 10k........

This is my sweaty red face after running a half mile? I think?