Today, I think I became a runner. I ran two miles today without walking, without stopping, and without dying. Two miles may not be much in terms of distance, but it is monumental to me. Two miles is respectable; it requires more sustained effort than scraping out a mile. It's 2/3 of the way to a 5K -- a respectable racing distance. Two miles, for me, is an accomplishment.
It felt great running today. Legs, lungs -- everything felt great. Repeating W5 of the C25K program was a good decision, and now I won't feel discouraged if I need to repeat another day or week as I go forward. I killed today's run. There was no doubt that I would finish, no shuffling out the last half mile, no clutching the rails of the treadmill. In fact, I could have kept running. If someone walked into the gym today and saw me for the first time, they might have even thought I was a real runner. So, then, maybe I am. . .
The thing I have realized as I have gone along is that the only thing holding me back is my mind. My body wants to move, to shed its extra weight, to run. My mind keeps trying to tell my body that it can't do those things. It reminds my body that I have always quit before and that it's inevitable that I will quit again. That voice seems to want me to fail because it's familiar with failure -- with settling for mediocrity. But my heart and my soul are ready for something better, and that voice will not get the better of me this time.
My mindset needs a makeover. Instead of even the lukewarm thinking, "I'm going to be a runner. I'm almost there," I am getting used to the empowering idea that I AM a runner. I do, in fact, run, after all. Therefore, by definition . . .I am a runner. If I can just keep that ugly voice in my head quiet, my heart and my soul can start to really feel that in every part of my being. I'm a runner.
I'm a runner.
Damn. That feels good.