If youâ€™ve read any of my previous posts youâ€™ll see that I have been running pretty steadily for the past three-four weeks.
Iâ€™ve never been a runner. I have always HATED just the idea of running. Everything hurts. Your lungs feel like theyâ€™re on fire. Running sucks.
Iâ€™ve ran 61.3 miles in the past 4 weeks. Thatâ€™s a bit over 15 miles a week.
Iâ€™m not fast. I do tend to just chug along at a rather slow pace. (Iâ€™m at 13 minute miles) But something is changing. My mind isnâ€™t as opposed to a daily run as it once was. My one miles turned into two and theyâ€™re slowly turning into three.
Iâ€™m okay with that.
Butâ€¦.but youâ€™re fat!
Yes, I know. I donâ€™t have the slender body of your typical runner. Hell, I donâ€™t run. I slow jog. 4.8 miles per hour is my average pace. Iâ€™ve slowly been learning to love myself despite the fact my husband frequently catches me scowling at my reflection in the mirror in our hallway. Iâ€™m exploring with clothing. Iâ€™m being more confident.
Itâ€™s funny the way people look at you when youâ€™re overweight and you say you run. The cynical look. The rolled eyes. The reminder that youâ€™re overweight. (Apparently us big girls canâ€™t run?)
Like Iâ€™ve been saying, in order to improve yourself you must love yourself.
Iâ€™m learning to love running. The solitude. The feeling of how my muscles ache afterward.
My mind is changing.