When I created this blog, it was really to track my training for my 2nd half marathon, since shortly after I completed my first, I had all but forgotten the tears shed when I first ran 10 miles or when I bonked at 8 miles and was still 5 miles from home (thank goodness for Dunk's and cell phones!). But I feel like I've hit an emotional wall with regards to running, so I need to remind myself how I got here. I haven't told anyone the whole story, although a few close family members and friends know it.
I didn't used to be a runner. I joined volleyball in HS because we only needed to do 10 laps around the gym. I was always "fluffy", "curvy" or "chubby". Unless you look at my BMI from 1999-2009. Then I was obese. I really hate that word. But yeah, I was. See?
|Me and 1 year old Pete. Summer 2006.|
October 2010, right between my sister's wedding and halloween, I ended up in Mass Gen's ER. I honestly thought I was having a heart attack. After spending 12 hrs in the ER, having them rule out the heart attack, stroke, rule in then out a pulmonary embolism, we figured out it was a gallbladder attack. Except my gallbladder and I parted ways in 1997 due to the same exact attack. I'm just this side of a medical miracle; I make "chunky" bile. Nothing 6 months of pills, minor surgery and diet modifications and exercise can't fix. On February 17th, 2010, I set my alarm early, hit the gym before work and started on the journey that has lead me to a small collection of 5Ks, a 10K, 2 mud runs, a color run and 2 half marathons (and counting!)
|Brian's 5th Bday 2012. Me at my healthiest. |
Please excuse the mess! :) It's hard to find any pictures of me.
And here's why I'm typing this up today. I've had a tough time staying motivated this winter. I've gained weight. I feel sluggish. My running routine is, well, barely a routine. So, I'm frustrated, which means old habits, like eating, are coming back. Which make me feel more sluggish, more frustrated and it's this horrible cycle. And for me, the only way to break the cycle is to face it head on and remind myself of why I run.
This is my response to the simple question of "why do you run?" I run because that woman in the first picture couldn't run 20 feet down a ramp. Because she had problems picking up a 1 year old. Because she slept horribly due to all the snoring. And because she hated all of those things.
I run because I remember when I couldn't and when I wouldn't. And I won't ever go back there again.