Jogging: My Memory

I did something today that was extraordinary. I walked 5.5 miles. Well, that is not exactly accurate. You see, I walked 5 miles and jogged half a mile.

I jogged!

Me, the woman who sat on the couch a year ago and thought that gastric bypass surgery was my only hope actually jogged!

Me, the woman who didn't want to walk around the corner to the bus stop every day so much that she took cabs to and from work actually jogged!

To be honest, I've not been all that satisfied with the lack of a challenge that walking has been bringing me lately. I wanted something more, something that would push me like walking used to do. When I started walking I felt like I was climbing a mountain every day, like I had achieved something. Now it is merely exercise. I do it, but I am not straining to do it anymore. It has become almost too easy. I'm up to doing 3 miles in an hour.

So I ran a Google search on how to start jogging. It seemed simple enough:

• start out walking for at least 5 minutes
• start jogging and only do as much as you can without feeling like you can't breathe
• stop and resume walking until your breathing returns to a normal rhythm
• repeat the process over and over

I confess that the half a mile did not happen all at once. It came in short spurts along with the regular walking routine. When I neared the end of each jog, my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest it was beating so rapidly. I've never pushed myself so much (relax, I wasn't killing myself, merely pushing myself past the point I've ever been before). I remember praying for God to give me strength. I also questioned my sanity more than a few times along the way. Who willingly puts themselves through this ordeal? It is truly frightening. I suppose the most frightening bit is that I not only plan to do it again tomorrow night and beyond, I also sort of liked it.

Who IS this woman inside me? She is one tough cookie.