When I first started this blog, I was pretty miserable with my level of fitness, if I’m being entirely honest.
I’d been doing CrossFit for almost two years, gained a bunch of weight
and I’d managed to injure my knee pretty significantly.
I was pretty sure that I’d destroyed myself physically, and I was emotionally drained
from constantly berating myself for my physical appearance.
I find it so incredibly sad that so much of our self worth is tied up in our aesthetics and our perception of our appearance.
I find it so sad that so many of us feel the need to define ourselves by a number because society says to.
Most of all though, I find it sad that I’ve allowed myself to succumb to that perception.
Yesterday, however, I decided to attempt my longest run yet.
I was aiming for 3.5 miles – not crazy long because of sore knees and calves,
but just long enough to make a difference because I needed to see a little bit of progress,
and I really wanted to see a number bigger than 3.01 on my Endomondo tracker.
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy,
but I also knew that I wasn’t racing against a clock here.
All I’m trying to do is put the miles on my legs, get healthy, fall in love with fitness again and challenge myself.
I felt good, so I decided to keep going, and I did it.
I ran all 4 miles.
I wasn’t running a world-record pace, and I certainly wasn’t the fittest woman running around post,
but I was running, and I was enjoying it.
That, my friends, makes this progress worth all the pain in the world.
Today, I have sore calves, a tired back, hip flexors that feel like they’ve run a marathon,
but I’m so immensely proud of this progress.
I can’t wait to see a 5-miler up there because now I actually know I can.
It truly is amazing what we can do when we put our minds to it and stop getting in our own way.
