It finally opened and after a long, busy weekend, we decided to treat the kids (and give me a break from cooking) and get take-out. Buttery broasted potatoes with just the right amount of crispiness, crispy chicken and BBQ ribs were just the right concoction to end my crazy-hectic weekend. It was delicious.
And then it hit.
The big, giant greasy rock had settled in the pit of my stomach and my body came crashing to a halt. I really wanted a nap. I hadn’t eaten food from Chicken Shack in about two years and with my choice of living healthier, it’s not exactly part of my diet plan. The good news was that I had planned to meet a friend to get a five-mile run in that evening. I knew the run would re-energize me and burn off some of those calories I had just ingested. The bad news was that I had planned to meet a friend to get a five-mile run in that evening.
About 25 minutes after I had finished my dinner, I laced up my running shoes and headed out the door to meet my friend. Thankfully, I had another 10 minutes to let my food settle as I had to drive to her house. We headed out (slowly) on our run and suddenly, that heavenly broasted goodness didn’t feel so good. Or heavenly. It was actually a bit hellish. In fact, it felt downright awful. Running like I had a 12-pound bowling ball strapped around my middle, I continuously apologized to my running partner for my sluggish pace. I honestly thought I would yack on some poor, unsuspecting person’s freshly cut lawn, but thankfully (or maybe not) the grease-ball stayed solidly in the pit of my stomach. By the end of mile three, I finally began feeling a little better and by mile five (our last mile) we were really cruisin’ along. I realized something during that slow-chugging first three miles…“treating” myself with that dinner from Chicken Shack tasted really good, but I picked the absolute wrong time to do it. I am all for indulging in this kind of comfort food every once in a while…but next time, I’m going to do it when I can take a nice, long nap afterwards.
For those of you who might not know this, I am a newbie runner. I didn’t even consider myself a real runner until about two months ago. I had run in races, trained, had some running friends and I even read Runner’s World magazine…but I just never considered myself a runner. I think the turning point for me was one afternoon when I went out for one of my training runs by myself and I actually enjoyed it. I mean, I really enjoyed it. I looked forward to escaping my life for 44 minutes. I enjoyed the fact that I was pushing my body to do what it was meant to do…to MOVE. I felt the wind on my face and the pavement under my feet. The sun was shining and the slight breeze was cool. The weather was perfect. I felt deep, cleansing breaths expand my lungs, pumping blood to all of my muscles (which were now visible and toned) and nothing hurt. Of course, I expended effort. Of course, I was getting a workout… but it was like for 44 minutes and four miles, my body was in tune with my mind and everything went and felt exactly as it should. For 44 minutes.
And that’s when I realized I was a real runner. I felt strong. Alive. And in control.
Do I know everything there is to know about running? Absolutely not. Do I know all about sports drinks and training drills and mile-repeats and supplements and shoes? Absolutely not. I’m a newbie, remember? But I do know that I can finally say that I am a real runner. It took me thousands of steps, 11 months of running and a lot of miles to finally say that. I still find myself doing stupid things, like eating crappy food right before a run. And I’m sure I’ll do many more stupid things. I know I have a lot left to learn and I look forward (in a weird, twisted way) to learning it. But I know I’m not afraid to try it now. And you shouldn’t be either. What’s there to be afraid of? So you have to walk instead of run. Big deal! So you’re slower than you think you should be. Who cares?! You’re out there doing it…taking one step farther than you did before. Trust me, I’m sure I look funny running. But you know what? I can probably name five people who wish they could run and because of a disability, they can’t. They won’t ever. And you know what else? All those people that you think are giving you funny looks, really aren’t. They’re probably wishing they had the guts or the time or the energy (or whatever else they think they need) to get out there and run too.
If you’ve ever thought about trying to run, I say: go for it. If you hate running (as I always have) try it anyway. Who cares if you don’t think you’re a real runner. Maybe one day you’ll admit that you are. It’s like me and my running buds say, “You just have to get out there and cover the distance. Doesn’t matter how fast or how slow you are.” And if you decide to start running, or jogging, or even walking briskly, I can tell you one thing I know for sure, newbie status and all: don’t eat any food from Chicken Shack 30 minutes before you go out. Ever. Ugh.
This weekend’s adventure and newbie training tip: greasy food and exercise - they aren’t a good combination. Lesson learned. Check!
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