Just Move Mondays – Running a 5k! For Reals!

Today’s Guest Post for Just Move Monday comes from Danielle, and it makes my boobies hurt just thinking about it!

Enjoy! 

I’ve never been much of an athlete.  I had boobs before most other girls so gym class quickly became one of my least favourite classes in school and I promptly stopped taking it as soon as I could.  Being curvier than most of my friends lead me to avoid recreational team sports throughout university and listening to sporty roommates make fun on fat people at the gym in sweat pants instead of the usual shorts convinced me I wouldn’t feel welcomed there either.

Eventually I moved to the downtown of a big city which meant I was too poor for a car or a bus pass but lucky enough to live within walking distance of most things and became an excellent walker as a result.  I began to realize that what I lacked in speed and strength I made up for in endurance, often walking hours without realizing it.  I made one or two more attempts at becoming a gym bunny but still never enjoyed it enough to make it a regular means of exercise.

One winter, I found myself living alone for the first time in my life.  Without roommates to chat with at the end of each day, the nights dragged on and I began to get kind of sad.  I decided I had to find more ways to get out of the house and enjoy my new neighbourhood, despite my lack of funds and the cold that was dragging well into March.

I don’t know why I did it.  Maybe I had always secretly envied those people I’d seen on my way to work, in their black tights with their ipods strapped to their arms.  Maybe I wanted to show the world that, despite the hips and the boobs, I had become one fit bitch and could do what the skinny people did too.  Whatever reason, I decided to try running.  Running to me had always been the thing that seemed to separate the healthy from the athletic; you didn’t fuss around with teammates or have distractive whistles and rules.  You just ran and until this point, it had looked like the most pointless, boring and gruelling activity on earth. 

Again, I’m not sure why I did it, but I started looking for running plans on the internet, the kind that take you from no running to twenty minutes in eight weeks.  I don’t think I ever expected to stick with it long enough to finish but suddenly there I was, running for twenty minutes straight with nary a desire to puke at the end.  A friend pointed out to me that someone able to run twenty minutes would likely be able to get themselves ready for a 5k without too much hassle.  It had never occurred to me that I could be one of those people, number pinned to their chest, running through the streets at ungodly hours for charity but a mere three months after the first time I laced up my sneakers and ran one minute, walked two, I was running with 35, 000 other people in a 5k Breast Cancer run.  Since then I’ve run a couple more 5’s and this year worked my way up to not one, but two 10k races.

A few things to note: I admit that when I started running, I hoped it would help me lose weight.  I think I’m better at accepting my size than most people, thanks in part to the genetic proof that this is the size my body wants to be that confronts me at every family reunion.  But like others I have, at times, wanted to walk into stores not assuming that I need the largest size they have (and I fully acknowledge the privilege I have in getting to shop at “normal” stores at all).  So yes, I hoped I would lose weight.  But I didn’t.  In fact, I think I gained some.  My body shape changed a little; my waist got a little smaller and my thighs got bigger.  I found, though, that I didn’t care.  Any validation I would have gotten from losing weight has been far outshone by the praise and admiration I get from people when they hear I completed an event.  I think about my weight a lot less, in fact, and judge my health on my accomplishments instead.

Second, I run slowly.  Incredibly slowly.  I run alone and as such I get to control my speed.  I’ve decided I prefer running far to running fast and so I measure my runs in distance instead of time.  This is all fine and good when you are by yourself, but I admit it gets harder to feel awesome about yourself when you run an event and spend the majority of the race being passed by people.  To wit, here are my official time and placement from the last event I ran:

standings

Those, my friends, are pretty amusing stats and did cause my boyfriend to chuckle a little.  But again, this is just another facet of acceptance.  I’ve come to accept the limitations and accomplishments of my body, regardless of what the others around me are doing.  Do I look different than most of the runners there?  Yes.  Did it piss me off a little that I was passing the 3k marker while the frontrunners passed me at their 7k marker?  Yes.  Was I any less elated when I passed the finish line, having accomplished my personal goal of not walking?  Hells no.

So that’s my story.  There are a few things here I didn’t address, like how self-conscious I was at first to jiggle my way through the neighbourhood or how annoying it is that most running stores do not carry clothing that fits me, but I wanted to focus on the positive aspects of my experience.  If I could offer any advice to people who think running is too hard it would be to do the same.  That, and to buy the best sports bra money and the laws of physiques can afford.  Happy jiggles!

~ by Sylvia on November 16, 2009.