Ape and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Run...

Do you remember back in elementary school when they would have those pentathlon/triathlon whatever da heck thingies? It was like exercise but "fun," and then everyone who beat a certain level would get the Presidential Fitness Award, followed up by the National Fitness Award.

  
 Yep, that one! Well I never got one of those, EVER. In fact, when Jr. High and High School hit, the thing I dreaded most about P.E. class was the mile run.  So why in the world becoming a runner has become so important to me now I have no idea--I hate running!  

 About 5 weeks ago I decided I wished I liked to run.  I imagined how it would feel to be free, to forget the world for a while and just...run. It was something I did not think I could do--and so began my drive to learn how.  The training sheet I am using is supposed to enable me to run 3 miles straight by gradually conditioning my body to do so.  It was a struggle but I had been completing each step...until a few weeks ago.  

STOP! "Do not pass Go, do not collect $200!" Stuck.

As I prepared for this morning's run I tried hard to tell myself "you can!"  But after 5 failed attempts over the last few weeks, discouragement was winning.  Momma ran with me--oh how I envy her ability! I need a good accountability partner, you know, encouraging yet unrelenting and pushy (love you too!)  
I had been making it through 3 of the 4 splits, but today I only made it through 1 before I felt myself breaking down. Those last two shouldn't even count I did so bad.  She kept telling me I couldn't quit yet--"just make it to that basketball hoop, the garbage can, the car, come on, let's go!"  Crazy how LONG the last minute of a split can be when you are dying!  My stomach hurt so bad, like someone had kicked me in the gut.  My lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air, I couldn't breathe and I was panicking.  Pretty sure I was running in fetal position (imagine that one), and Momma kept telling me to put a smile on my face! Really?! She said I could hit her for it later ;)  

Then I gave in to those negative thoughts, I actually told myself I was going to stop running at "that car."  Honestly, I would have stopped running and sat down if Momma hadn't been with me, I wanted to quit.  I had told myself I wouldn't quit until I could DO this, but now I had doubts. Could I really do it?

Momma says she heard somewhere that your body can do more than your mind tells you it can--I imagine getting my mind to trust more might give me the willpower I need. So maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm in over my head, and maybe running will never get easier for me.  But maybe, just maybe it's what I need to prove to myself that I can make it through something hard.