20 minutes

I keep an offline journal, and have for almost a year now.  I started because I was going through some stuff, and keep it up because I still am.  When I'm on "the Plan", most of my entries tend to be related to it.  Finally I decided to open this, and just start typing everything I would about this journey here instead.

Today is a cardio day.  I do P90 before I eat breakfast and when I woke up, I felt dread like a stone in my stomach.  I thought about doing Cardio 1-2 again.  I told myself things like, "You have a tough run ahead of you later in the day.  You transitioned gradually to Sculpt 3-4, you didn't suddenly start doing it every session", etc.  But like I wrote in my first post, these reasons are valid without being good.

When I thought about writing here, "I did Cardio 1-2 instead, because..."  Because why?  There was nothing I could have finished that with that didn't feel like and that I didn't know deep down was an excuse.  I did have a tough run scheduled for tonight.  I did transition a bit gradually last time to the tougher work-out.  But I knew I would have time to rest, and most of all, I knew that I could do it if I really tried.

So Cardio 3-4 this morning.  Last time it was rough, and I told myself then that I would listen to myself better, while still pushing myself.  Today, I did that.  I paused occasionally, sometimes just to take a deep, calming breath and refocus.  But I finished it, like that voice inside me always knew I could.

And then... then I tried not to think about tonight's jog, because it was by far the longest one ever asked of me- 20 minutes.  Last session I did two 8-minute runs separated by a 5-minute walk, and that was the previous high water mark.  20 minutes?  I was really afraid I wouldn't be able to do it, and how that would make me feel.  I made a few jokes about it today, like the "old me", trying to pre-announce failure so it wouldn't hurt so much when it happened.  When, not if.

My stomach was tense for this, too.  I dressed slowly like I was going into battle or something, in my "running uniform".  I pre-prepared everything I'd want for dinner afterwards; broccoli washed and in the steamer, chicken weighed and butterflied, rice in the cooker and olive oil/salt/pepper nicely "mise en place."  My mp3 player had this session's timer loaded on it and ready to go... and then it was down to me.  Just go.

So I did.  It felt good in the beginning, like it always does- those first few steps like sliding into water almost, feeling my body come awake and moving, stretching, enjoying it.  Then I got hot and sweaty, and climbing up the "hill" was rough every time.  I told myself at one point, "You could walk.  You could just walk for a little while...," but then I thought, "No.  Just keep going, one foot in front of the other.  Just try not to stop, instead."

5 minutes, 10 minutes.  15 minutes, more then halfway and the longest I have ever jogged up until then.  Then 2.5 left.  Then... done.  20 minutes.

It was dark and the wind blew in my hot face.  It was quiet, and the moon was starting to shine above the trees.  And out there, alone as I slowed to a walk to cool down... I started to cry.  Because I did it, and I did not know until it was done that it was possible.  Because I did not give up.  Because, as the mp3 first cheered me on in the beginning and I kept repeating in my head, I had "faith in myself".  I believed in me.

This has been an immensely difficult year for personal reasons.  Reasons why I started this journey in earnest to begin with, back in November at at least 240 lbs, when I didn't even want to weigh myself because it would be too much to know.  Reasons why I stopped, too, because I told myself I "didn't care" enough to keep trying, that my health just didn't matter to me, that it was too hard and I just couldn't deal with it and life at once.

I have such a far way to go, still.  Sometimes it demoralizes me, but right now it does not- it's simply a fact.  The one thing that I have been so surprised to learn is that it might be hard but I think the way I was living was harder.  This is hard work, but it makes me feel good in the end.  It makes me feel so strong and so proud of myself.  Eating was "easy", but the way it made me feel... that girl eating cookies, a whole container in secret because it was her "last chance", not even tasting them, wanting to cry inside as she did... what could be harder then that?

I told myself I didn't care, but I always did.  I hoped things would change, but they never did, not magically on their own.

I cannot control so much that I might wish I could, but I can control this.  I was the girl that said can't so many times, and never can.  Tonight I was the woman that said yes and did.

We only get one life.  Yesterday you said tomorrow.

If anyone else ever reads this... please don't give up.  Never give up.  Keep trying.  Believe in yourself, because you are so much stronger and more capable then you think.  You are beautiful, you are worthwhile, and no one can stop you from accomplishing whatever you fight for.

Exercise: P90 Sweat 3/4 (cardio; 50 minutes); C25K Week 5, Session 3 (jogging; 20 minutes plus 5-minute cool down)
Eeating: 1,206 calories; 5 quarts water