Dear Reader Allison asked me a great question:
I have a question for you- though it’s actually about running. I saw in your earlier posts that you started recently. The thing is you make it sound like so much fun, but when does it become enjoyable??? I’ve been doing couch to 5k from coolrunning.com. I’m on week 4 and my brain is still screaming “stopstopstopstop” the whole time. How do you get from there to running in the pool because you’re hurt but want to run anyway? Sorry if this is a weird question to ask a knitting blog. 🙂
First, this ain’t no knitting blog. Had you noticed? (Anne killed me a couple of days ago: “Knitting content: I have been knitting. Ok, now on to other things.”) I’m so knitting, I swear. I’m almost done with another pair of socks. I’m almost done with that Brick Joy, the cabled Debbie Bliss hoodie. I’ve just lost all motivation to photograph yet another sweater in progress. Here’s what it looked like, here’s what it looks like now, two inches longer. I actually enjoy seeing this progress on other sites – I just bore myself silly with photographing such activity.
Where was I? Oh, back to the excellent question. Allison, I’m not sure WHERE the craziness that inspired the running came from. There’s never been anyone more anti-running than me. Completely unable to hide my disdain, if someone said to me, “I went running this morning,” I would howl in disgust. “Why do you DO that? How awful! Are you all right?”
Then I woke up one day and wanted to run. Quite literally, my body said, RUN. Not from anything, there was nothing I was avoiding, it just wanted me to move. I called Marama and told her I needed her help in buying running shoes, and she said, “Wanna run the AIDS Marathon?” I said, “Okay.” WTF?
My body screams “stopstopstopstop,” too. Loudly, in an annoying whine. But one day when I was going around the lake, I realized that it was full of crap. Shin splints aside, I don’t have to stopstopstop. Even though I felt like I was gonna DIE, I just kept running and eventually I forgot about that voice for a minute. I just tuned that part out and starting thinking about my writing, or what I wanted for dinner. I’m not saying that I’m not terrified to do the marathon. Actually, I’m terrified to do the seven mile run this week, since I skipped the six mile one last week so my legs could heal. Aargh. It’s kinda like when I quit smoking. I would throw myself on to the couch and absolutely Know For Sure that I was going to die if I didn’t have a cigarette. Then I would forget about it and have an okay evening. All mental, baby.
Thanks for the question, Allison.
And might I add, I was right. I’ve gained five pounds. Don’t anyone tell me that’s muscle weight or nothin’, because I know it ain’t, it’s all the ice cream I’ve suddenly felt much more free to eat. Well, I’m running a marathon! Pass the cake.
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