It was about midnight when I went off half-cocked and decided that I was going to do a C25K program. As usual, I was up too late and fiddling around on Facebook. Lo and behold, as I scrolled ever downward in what seemed like an endless feed of new items, an ad popped up that caught my eye.
It was impossible, really, for it NOT to catch my eye. Jumping off my laptop screen was a woman dressed in full running attire, soaked to the skin in bright pink paint. Intrigued, I clicked it. Then I clicked all the clicky links on the website. I was morbidly curious and totally sold. “I can do this!” I thought. “It’s not until October! I can whip myself into shape in no time!” I assured myself.
HAHAHAHAHA!!!! I’m hilarious sometimes.
See, I’m fat (duh,) broken (as in, metal plates and screws and pins in bones,) and have zero spare time. My days are spent entertaining two children, one of whom is special needs. My nights are spent at a shitty job that I detest, but pays the bills. This leaves me with exactly eight hours in which to cram in the occasional bit of side work and this new endeavor to make me a better me.
So, gritting my teeth with determination, I began my “training.”
The first night, after I lovingly tucked my children into bed, I put on a pair of denim capri pants, a tank top, my flip flops, and went outside. At a bit of a loss, I realized quickly that I was, umm....not prepared. One can’t run in flip flops, I realized. (Not for lack of trying, though.) Additionally, denim and chub rub is not a good combination. No, not at all. So, shuffling my way back down the street, I scrubbed that attempt and decided to start anew the next day.
After a run to Walmart on my way home from the kiddo’s occupational therapy block the following afternoon, I was armed with yoga pants and a pair of running shoes. Good to go, right? Yeah!
Wrong again! Remember those pins and plates I told you about? Well, not only am I petrified they’ll fail somehow, they also make wearing shoes kind of difficult. The break changed the entire architecture of my foot, so fit is huge problem. Additionally, the plate rests just where the top of the shoe does on the outside of the ankle. Ankle skin is very thin, and that makes for a very painful kind of rub.
Still not discouraged, though, I took my shoes off and chucked them to the side. Barefoot running! YES! I’m hardcore in many other ways, why not be all kamikaze about this whole running thing, too?
So, off I shuffled. I’d say jogged, but I’m not going to lie to you, dear readers. It was (and remains,) a shuffle. That goes back to that fear I have of the ankle failing me, or an even older injury in my opposite knee giving me grief.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
It has been two weeks, and I’m still shuffling around the neighborhood barefoot. I’ll be biting the bullet and getting all spendy on a pair of Vibram FiveFingers, but for the moment, it’s just me and my calluses.
Will I actually be jogging or running the Color Vibe 5K in October? Not a clue. The journey has begun, though. In spite of being broken, fat, and busy, I’m really damn stubborn. IT’S ON, YO.