I started training for a 5k. WHAT?!
One dark, rainy night I downloaded an app on my phone and followed the optimistic, slightly grating female computer voice who told me when to briskly walk and when to jog. For 31 excruciating minutes. I didn't stop, and I didn't die.
You see, I've told myself my whole life:
- I'm just not athletic.
- I hate running.
- Runners are crazy.
- I look ridiculous when I run.
- I'm going to hurt myself and then die a slow, painful death.
But the truth is, I thought I couldn't do it. So I made fun of running. I made fun of myself.
A couple of weeks back, the Lumberjack and I sat down to plan our year. I said I wanted to do some tough things. I wanted to set some goals that have a small chance of being met; I didn't want to just pick things I KNEW I could do. I wanted to write down some things I probably wouldn't be able to do, but chasing them would make me grow.
When I said I wanted to be healthier, I tried to think of one measurable goal that, if met, would mean I was healthier. When I said "5k" out loud I laughed my head off. Because...well...RUNNING. The last time I ran was P.E. class---oh wait. I probably cut class that day.
But then I wrote it down on my list - Run a 5k.
As I got dressed for my first run, I realized something.
I didn't have everything I needed: new clothes, reflective gear, something to hold my phone while I ran, a cool playlist, fast running shoes, new socks, a new beanie, one of those cool headbands that hold your bangs out of your face, those blinky light thingies you clip to your shoes, new lipbalm...you get the idea.
Honestly, at this point, I was thinking I should just go shopping instead of running.
I mean, come on! I would be more successful if I had everything BEFORE I began, right?
The truth is, I could spend most of my life waiting for everything to be perfect before I accomplished anything.
So instead of waiting until I had everything I needed, instead of waiting until conditions were perfect, I set out on my run in 24 degree weather with sweatpants that were missing the string to hold them up. You can imagine. Wait...don't. Sorry about that.
But here's my point: I've learned to stop making excuses, and instead just get my caboose in gear.
Just write the book.
Just plan the menu.
Just make the call.
Just buy the ticket.
Just get my caboose moving.
So I did.
And it felt gooooood.
Will I actually run a 5k? I hope so. I'm training for it. But the point is, I'm not putting it off.
What are you waiting for? Get your caboose out there!