Today, I cried while running on my treadmill.
Beautiful, wonderful, delightful, salty tears of joy.
Currently I'm on week/level 3 of the training program I'm using. This means 7 sets of running for 2 minutes, walking for 1 minute. I hadn't planned on running today; I was going to walk. However, the minute I stepped onto the treadmill, before it even started moving, I wanted to run. It felt like the right thing to do. So, I did. The first set was tough, my calves tight but I endured. By the time I reached my final set, I felt fantastic (and tired, as usual) and wanted to go out with a bang. My first thought was ramping up my speed and trying to run it faster. When I began that final set though, I axed that thought. My relatively slow speed this time out was comfortable but still got my heart rate up and the sweat flowing (I know, not an image y'all want to think of). So, I thought I'd try to run longer.
That's what I'd do. I'd push myself to three minutes instead of the scheduled two and finish strong. My calves tightened up towards the end of the second minute as they're prone to do but I was determined. I pushed past the two minute mark and felt strong. Confident. Awesome. And then something weird happened. As I approached the three minute mark, I envisioned myself raising my fist to the heavens and screaming "BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL!!!!" I wasn't ready to stop.
So I kept running.
At 3:30, emotion welled up inside me, exploded out of my eyeballs, and ran down my cheeks mixing with the sweat that was already coating my skin. I was doing this. Running. Not just short bursts of energy. Actual running. Four minutes arrived and I finally forced myself to walk. There is no doubt I could have probably finished five minutes but I don't want to risk injuring myself and setting back all my hard work, sweat and, yes, now tears.
Another milestone and another time where I don't know how to begin to describe what I'm feeling now that I've showered, changed and, yes, cried again. Its a sense of accomplishment in an area I never ever expected to find myself - running. Me. That chubby funny kid who didn't like to get sweaty and was always worried people would laugh at her. Heck even one of my former friends laughed at me one time we went to the gym together (she told me my feet flapped like a duck when I ran ... I stopped immediately and didn't try again for years).
Four minutes straight, after running a total of 12 minutes out of the previous 20. I did that. And no one can ever take that away from me. I may not be He-Man but I feel a little bit like She-Ra today.