If you had told me a year ago I’d be running a 5K tonight, I would have wrinkled my nose.
A year ago, I was not someone who ran—I was someone who politely dismissed running as a pastime that, while beneficial for some, was not for me.
Yoga, I’ve said for years, is all the exercise I need, especially since merely existing in Manhattan pretty much covers my cardio.
But yoga only works if you practice it, and a year ago I was dealing with so much stress that yoga seemed out of the question; I simply could not find the time or space to be still.
And so I started to run.
It was my boyfriend who got me going, and I will be forever grateful for his persistence and patience those first few weeks. He took me to get fitted for shoes, and he showed me how to regulate my breath, and he led the way on my first jog. And he remained encouraging, even when my attitude was a special combination of skeptical, curious, and surly.
It was humbling to renounce a decade of anti-running rhetoric. (Indeed, when I told friends about my new hobby, they expressed surprise without exception: “But you hate running!” they exclaimed, again and again.)
It was hard to move my body in an unfamiliar way.
It was intimidating to pant and plod alongside the apparent legions of svelte Olympians zipping down the Hudson.
And also, it was worth it.
For me, taking it slow was key: I downloaded a running app and built up my stamina day after day, week by week. At first I was only running a minute at a time, with 90-second intervals of walking. Six weeks later I could handle ten-minute stretches. And by the two-month mark I could go for three miles straight.
For a while I was beholden to my phone, aka my tracking device and virtual coach. I followed its directions to the letter and took pride in the improving statistics my screen displayed.
Now, though, I pay less attention to total distances and split times and whatever other milestones people care about. It’s more important to me that I pause if I’m tired, or stop to stretch if I feel sore.
So what if I clock a sixteen-minute mile? I know five minutes of that was spent staring at the river.
Today I will run with a group for the first time, as part of a formal race. I’m doing it for the community, not the competition, and I’m excited to experience downtown streets without car traffic, accompanied by people who value their health.
And sure, I’m also a little bit nervous—but I’m definitely not stressed.
Love > fear,
p.s. This has nothing to do with running, but I just found out Are You My Boyfriend? got a huge bump in sales rank last week, which tells me some of you must have bought it last #thankyouthursday. THANK YOU!!! (And thanks also on behalf of whoever you gave it to!)