like i've said before, i am not a natural born runner or athlete. i know some people that just have it in their blood. their parents are runners, they started running track in middle school, they ran cross country from 6th grade-senior year of college. i am not one of those people. i never ran cross country and i used to complain about running during sports in high school. "WHY do i have to run 3 miles? i don't even have to run the whole length of the field half the time playing defense in soccer!" i would almost say i despised long distance running. i could do suicides and sprints all day long, but when it came to those long distance runs i would have much rather sat out. (i know "suicides" isn't the politically correct term anymore, but i couldn't tell you what they're calling those things now-a-days. anyone??)
the first time i hopped on that treadmill, i was intimidated. it was a while since i had been on a long run, never had i ran more than 3 miles, and i most certainly had never run on a treadmill. i ran at practice and try-outs but other than that i got almost all of my cardio from the elliptical, maaaybe a few runs outside to prepare for tryouts. i steered clear of the treadmill though. the thought of a run alone bored/exhausted me, the thought of a run in place was absurd. regardless of the feelings of dread i had towards the treadmill, i got on it and i ran that mile. although all the while i was hating on it, like uuughh when will this be over, at the end i realized it wasn't really all that bad. the next time i got to the gym, i found myself on the treadmill once again.
this was november of 2012. i live in new england, so it was already snowy and icy at this point in the year. running outside was out of the question because i was not all that determined and quite honestly, it didn't mean that much to me...yet. YET! after a good week and a half of running a mile on the treadmill at speed 5.5, i decided to bump it up to speed 6.0 mph, a 10 minute mile. although i had only been running for about a week and a half, it didn't kill me to run that speed like i was anticipating it would.
at this time i was also doing about 30 minutes on the elliptical at level 5, as well as about 45 minutes of strength training. i wasn't in terrible shape but i also wasn't in good shape either. after a few weeks, i bumped up the length of my runs and cut back on my time on the elliptical. at this point i wasn't trying to do much more than about 40 minutes of cardio, because i didn't always feel like being at the gym all day. i was working out 4-5 days a week for about an hour, twenty-five minutes.
i decided that by the time spring came i would be up to running 3 miles comfortably, and then i would take it to the streets. i achieved my goal of a comfortable 3 miles quicker than i had expected and was able to be at a comfortable 4 by the spring. this was at a speed of 6.0. i had not worked on my pace, only the distance i was running. i didn't care about my speed, i just wanted to finish.
one thing i did not do ONCE while training myself to be able to run 3 miles comfortably, was stop and walk. no matter what, i never slowed down the treadmill or stopped. in my mind i knew that if i gave up and stopped, the next time would be just as hard or harder, because i had already given up the previous time. if i was always making progress, each run after the next would get easier and easier. i repeated to myself over and over again that i could do it, even if my body was tired and i felt like stopping. (i never endured any intense pain or injury, if i had, i probably would have stopped.) i ran through the small cramps and the exhaustion, taking about 1 sip of water every 10 minutes. at my current pace back then, that was a sip of water per mile.
i always kept pushing, because for each feat i conquered, i was getting myself ready for the next. with each mile i ran, the more my confidence grew. the more my confidence grew, the more my love for running grew and the more i was excited for my next chance to lace up my sneakers.
it was not all rainbows and butterflies, don't get me wrong. there were days where i thought i would throw up at the end. days where i had to drag myself to the gym. days i had to switch my days off because i could not bring myself to go. but then, there was always the upside. there were days i could not wait to get out there and run. days where i remembered that running helps with my anxiety. days where i looked in the mirror and noticed a positive change in my body. there were days that runs were so hard i counted down the minutes. there were others that they went by in the blink of an eye. regardless though, no matter what, i knew that i never gave up. i knew that the runs i did start, i finished. that was something that was and still is in the back of my head, every single run.
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