I Kept Going
A few weeks ago, I set a goal. I wanted to be able to run a mile without stopping by my birthday, September 16th. That night, I ran a mile without stopping.
I’ve never been that person. The one who can just run. The one who feels like it or wants to lose weight or sees a race that looks fun and just does it. I’m not that person at all.
Born with hip dysplasia, like any good Labrador Retriever, I was always told I couldn’t run. I could dance, but not competitively, so I had to quit after 10 years at 13 when dance became all competition. I couldn’t do sports. Mostly, my body couldn’t handle the start/stopping of most things. But I can bike. And apparently, these days, I can run a bit.
I know when to stop. My hip gets kind of stuck. So. That’s a really good time. But so far, it hasn’t happened. I stay away from hills and run on a track. I drive there and home so I don’t have to walk when my muscles are sore. I run at night so I can rest after. I go slow and slow down more if I need to. A few weeks into it, it’s all working.
Tonight, I ran my mile and kept going. I ran through thoughts and doubts and discouragement and ideas. I kept going. 1.70 miles of it.
I guess I need to change my goal. I’m starting to like it. I’m getting better. I like that a lot.