A year ago today, I went for my very first run. In typical fashion, I started my senior year of college with about twenty to-do lists of things I had hoped I would accomplish. Elaborately scheduled days in which I would wake up at 6:30am, work two jobs, have 4 hours of class, cook for myself, and get amazing grades, do extracurricular reading, meet my friends out at the bar, and be asleep by 1am.
I ran for 17 minutes that day-- including some walk breaks. I was embarrassed by my form, so I only ran at night for the first two months. I would avoid the campus loop and wait to be away from streetlights or behind parked cars if I needed to walk. I was embarrassed that I was in college and not fat, but so incredibly out of shape. I plodded along, though, with the help of an Excel spreadsheet. My times were only calculated by counting how many songs I listened to on my playlist, and my distances only tracked by charting my loop on Nike +. It was laborious, but look at the difference.
It actually doesn't look like that much of a difference, but it's been one year, and I'm doing a marathon. Is that crazy? Probably. I'm fighting injury and (now) illness. My paces aren't any faster, but I'm more fit and MUCH happier. I can eat whatever I want (within reason, of course-- or with less guilt, at least.) It's been a good year, all things considered. It's a bucket list item I actually stuck to. Here's to many more years of running!