It’s 6 p.m., and I am running around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on my family’s dinner. I ask Anna to set the table and Olivia to fill the water glasses. As I call my family to dinner, I fill up my water bottle and lace up my running shoes. I call out to my family, “Save some for me!” And I head out the door.
I am very much in favor of family dinner, and I strive to maintain this sacred time more often than not. But this isn’t a normal evening, because each Tuesday night, I join other moms for a weekly running club.
Me, a runner?
With my water bottle, workout clothes and Asics Gel running shoes (that I was professionally fitted for), I guess I look like a runner. But not only do I look like a runner, my running coach and teammates tell me I am a runner. And after completing my first 5K race last summer, I suppose they are right.
I am a runner!
But how did I, a woman addicted to chocolate and allergic to exercise, get here? It hasn’t been easy.
Struggles, fears and excuses.
I’ve always struggled with making exercise a regular part of my routine. Everything else took priority, and I made every excuse I could think of not to exercise. Was it fear of hard work? Was it the dread of pain and discomfort? Was it laziness? Perhaps it was a combination of all of the above that stood in my way of taking that first step out the door and onto the running path.
For a long time, I was able to get away with not exercising. As long as I ate a healthy, well-balanced diet. But the older I got and more children I had, I accepted that exercise needed to become part of my life.
But how was I going to make exercise happen? As an analytical person, I can think about a decision so much that I end up doing nothing at all. And that’s exactly what I did about exercise. I thought about getting up early, before the kids and sunrise, to fit in a workout video. I thought about attending a class at our local YMCA. Many times throughout the day, I thought about going for a walk around my neighborhood. But did I actually act upon any of these thoughts? Um, no, I didn’t.
What’s it going to take?