How 20 Minutes Can Lead To 16 Pairs Of Sneakers

Last week I wrote that I had hurt my wrist biking (actually, the biking part was fine; it was the falling and landing on my outstretched hand that was the problem).  The doctor at the urgent care couldn’t decide if my wrist was fractured, so she sent me to an orthopedist – who isn’t sure either.  He upgraded me from a splint to a brace and is scheduling an MRI (to which I’m half expecting Guinness Book Of World Records to tell me that I’ve broken the one for the most MRIs for a single person).  In the meantime I’m learning to do everything lefty which is comical if nothing else. Generally I’m getting along fine, though I’ve discovered that non-dominant hand vacuuming is exhausting, and unopened food cans are my own personal kryptonite.

New brace

I’m still able to run, and though I did all my scheduled runs this week, I’m not going to discuss them here.  Instead I want to talk about a run I did 5 years ago.  On May 1^st, 2009, I went on my first run ever.  I was about 4 pounds from my goal weight, and worked out daily either with resistance bands or tae kwon do classes. It was fine, but I was feeling kind of invincible being so close to my goal weight that I want to challenge myself.  I had always hated running when I was younger and played team sports, but that was mostly because I was fat and hated having people watch my thigh, arm and ass fat jiggle up and down.  But I didn’t jiggle so much anymore, so I wanted to see if I’d enjoy it more now.

I told Wil about my idea to try running.  As supportive as ever, Wil raced home from work one evening so he could watch the kids while I went out on my first run. I decided to try and run 20 minutes, because in my head I was really only running for 10.  The other 10 was there just so that I could get home.  So, at the age of 40, I set out in a cotton t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers that weren’t made for running.

1st race, July 2009

I won’t get into details because you can probably figure out how that first run went (and frankly, because typing with just one hand is a pain in the ass).  But, I loved it.  I did a few more 20 minute runs, and when they got too easy I added 2 minutes to each run because in my head I was really only running for 1 extra one, with that other minute just there to get home.  Before I knew it I was running 40 minutes straight, and had signed up for my 1^st race, a 4 miler in Central Park.

So here I am 5 years later. At age 45 I have completed 4 full marathons, 11 half marathons, and 65 races in total (and counting  :-).  Moisture-wicking materials dominate my wardrobe, and I’m on my 16^th pair of running shoes.  I’m not writing all this to brag or practice left handed typing skills.  My point is that every now and then it’s good to step out of your comfort zone and try something new, even if it’s something you haven’t enjoyed in the past.  And just start small and set yourself up to succeed.  20 minutes today could lead you to being on your 16th pair of sneakers 5 years from now.