I can actually get up to 4 mph now on the treadmill, but it's not one of my favorite pastimes. I enjoy the challenge, but as of now, I'm just doing it to gain endurance, burn calories, and strengthen my lungs and heart. It doesn't really give me a high right now or feed my soul like I see it do for other true runners. I just stick to the treadmill for now because I won't overdo my pace and get tired early.
I jog because it's something I never thought I was capable of doing. In high school, I had around a 12-14 minute mile and was always one of the last stragglers during the required phys ed mile test. Mind you, I was also around 160 pounds back then.
Over the years, my endurance grew very poor, especially with the weight gain and poor choices. If I had to run down a train platform (especially in the cold weather), I would be out of breath and coughing for most of the 90 minute ride. Getting up and down multiple subway steps while carrying luggage almost made me pass out one day. I had to call a friend to come save me. It was humiliating, but in a small defense, I was getting turned around in circles and ended up in Brooklyn at one point.
I quickly lost 45 pounds in 2009 when doing Weight Watchers. I only focused on points rather than integrating exercise. My mother's death at the end of 2010 broke my plateau for the worst. I had gained back about 15 pounds by that point, but I packed it all back on by the end of 2011. We got engaged in November 2011 and married in April 2012. I started a new job after the honeymoon and gained another 7 pounds by my friend's wedding in July 2012. As you know, if you read my first post, November 2012 was my breaking point and I officially began my current journey in January 2013.
My mother died on a chilly, but clear, December night. It was 3 weeks after my 30th birthday. She had chronic Multiple Sclerosis for over 30 years and went into the ER on Friday for a minor emergency we thought would be cleared after the weekend. She went into cardiac arrest on Saturday afternoon, and the next 7 hours of my life were a surreal nightmare. She died at 12:35 am on Sunday morning.
We had gone home around 9 pm to pick up meds, phone chargers, and to try and get a little bit of sleep. Naturally, we weren't sleeping. We were in bed with the TV on, and me and Mom's favorite movie was on. I started crying and insisted on watching. Around 11:30, the hospital called me and told us to come as she was in bad shape. There was no way she'd make it to surgery. We turned off the movie and started quietly getting dressed and left the house. There was no sense of urgency like there was in the afternoon. We figured there would be some more hours of torture. 10 minutes later, they call me back to let me know that she was crashing and did we want to resuscitate. I'm driving, couldn't find her living will earlier, and was on the other line with my grandmother. I start flipping out and put the doctor on hold to ask my grandmother. We were both screaming helplessly and didn't know what to do. I went back to the doctor and just started screaming YES YES, WHATEVER.
We get to the hospital and park in the normal pay garage. Little did I know that the entrance to the hospital was locked on that end. Rather than pay and drive around to the ER lot (we really weren't thinking clearly), we start running around the hospital to another door while I was on the phone with the doctor. She tried to meet us at one entrance, but everything was locked and out of her control. We had to get around the big hospital to the ER.
And I couldn't run. It wasn't that chilly, it was a little wet out, but I couldn't run. I may have been crying a little, but that shouldn't have been holding up my lungs. I had to stop and power walk, and I started screaming at the top of my lungs, "My mother is dying in that building and I can't even fucking run to get to her!!!" I was ashamed and and disgusted with myself. I always assumed adrenaline would kick in when an emergency was present, but my body would just not respond the way I needed it to.
The doctor met us outside and would not say anything until they got me upstairs to the ICU. And when they told me the news I already knew, I started screaming at the top of my lungs while feeling guilty and nearly speaking in tongues while trying to get into a closed room. I didn't want to upset any patients in the ICU. And then, as my now husband made the hardest phone calls of his life, I just started screaming louder as I fell on the floor. They pulled me up and forced me into a chair. Her only local family was me and her mother. I had to pull myself together as we waited for my grandmother to get there (she has macular degeneration and lives 45 minutes away, so a friend had to take her). She was supposed to be there that morning before surgery, but it was too late. And the hardest thing I've had to do in my life was tell the doctors not to move the body until her 82 year old mother got there to break down over her 57 year old baby.
December 11 & 12, 2010 were the worst days of my life. I started going to therapy, but I started regressing in other aspects of my life. I finally started gaining control over my health in January 2013. I pushed myself to start jogging in 1-2 minute spurts in April 2013 while finishing with a 5 minute jog. By the end of the year, I could jog for 22 minutes, or in my world, 1.25 miles. I intend to do this a few times a week but end up falling behind because of life. This year, I found that I could jog a mile under 16 minutes. 15:45 is my best time so far. I wear proper running shoes and have specially designed music playlists. I constantly monitor my heart rate when doing 4 mph and the cool down, as my heart is still getting used to that level of intensity. I refuse to end up like my father, like I discussed in my June 23 post.
The left is July 2011, 7 months after my mom passed. The right is July 2014, a couple hours ago. Control is being restored.
Yesterday, we went to NYC for the day. We stayed in the Midtown West area, specifically around 6th-9th Ave, 30th-50th Street. My FitBit says that we did a total of 7 miles that day. That's pretty typical on an active NYC day, especially when you don't take public transportation. The first half of the day was pretty mellow walking, but we picked up the pace around 5:30. We realized that the store he wanted to go to on 30th was closing at 6, and we were only on 42nd by that point. So, once the crowds parted, we began sprinting down NYC streets.
Obnoxious? Probably. But did we move deftly around people and not crash into anyone? Yup! We started getting into a rhythm- when the stoplight was up, just power walk. When the walk light was on, SPRINT. We made it there in a few minutes. I was ridiculously impressed and not out of breath at all. I had a slight side stitch, but my husband told me to pinch it and breathe, and the pressure would release. I was very pleased to see it worked.
At the end of the night, we had to get to the midnight train after waiting for James Franco at the Of Mice and Men stage door for over an hour (my husband is a saint). I may have had outbursts during our walk from 48th to 42nd because the crowds were extra congested due to construction, and NO ONE WAS MOVING. It was the first time I've felt NYC native rage towards Times Square in years. It was such a gorgeous day and night that everyone was out and about. By the time we made it past 42nd, we practically ran the whole way to the train. I was wearing my flats, and my thighs were in pain by this time because they are the absolute worst shoes to run in. Today, I feel like I did inner/outer thigh machines for hours. But I wasn't out of breath at all on the train. I had my inhaler with me just in case, and I was totally fine. I was red as a beet and sweating by that point, but I felt just fine.
I now know that I could run around the entire hospital if need be. I took control of my life again. I have been accomplishing goals that I've set for myself. It may be slow, but that's ok. I can keep up with my husband, and it felt amazing to have him running in tandem. It's going to last. For once, it's going to last.
