The First Run

Certainly Not Ideal.

But then again, it is hard to find ideal conditions to go running in the volatile state of Virginia. The weather changes more than girls change their clothes, and right now in mid-March we are experiencing 45 degree weather mingled with 85 and 70 on March 18th and March 19th respectively. Besides impossible-to-predict weather conditions, man's (or woman's in this instance) motivation strikes at the strangest times.

My sleep schedule had begun to turn nocturnal once again, as I would sleep accidentally from 9 until 12 pm and then be unable to fall asleep until 10 am the next morning or later. That night I craved a snack, and drowned my taste buds in the chocolate chip covered breadsticks from pizza hut that were meant to be dunked into hershey's chocolate and were. This snack occurred at about 4:30 am, mingled with watching some LOST via Netflix. It certainly would have been a good idea to get some sleep, but when 7 am rolls around and you feel 500 calories (or more? it was a lot) sitting in your stomach like lead and determination burning, you have to answer the call.

The call came Tuesday morning at 7 am when the weather was a blustery 45 degrees. Not the worst decision I have ever made, but certainly not the smartest.

I suited up, put on my running gear and debated on taping my feet since it was still odd having nothing on my dogs. I ditched the tape and started out of my court, down the sidewalk and turning right to head towards the beach.

After hopping happily across a long stretch of grass near the lifeguards' shack, I made it to the beach and ran the short distance that was left until the end of the public beach, maybe only a few minutes worth of breath. The cold had started in by now and my feet were alarmed to say the least, turning bright red in their surprise at the cold assaulting them. Within minutes my feet had retreated and were fully numb, as I turned around and continued down towards the other end of the beach.

Only having run for 15 minutes, everything happened quickly. I hadn't run in months, and was winded at 7 minutes with little to no warm up and stretching. But after pushing through for a minute or two, I was fine, and began to hit my stride as I neared the far end of the beach that lay 3/4 of a mile away.

Passing under the observation pier, I reached the other end where the volleyball nets stood and stopped and felt the cold once again. My toes remained red while the rest of my feet were pale, and as far as I knew dead. My pause reminded me of the need to keep moving which equated to staying warm, and I began again beginning to feel stronger and ready to run more.

However, the cold was beginning to be too much for my feet, and my womanhood warned me of the foreboding time of month that it would soon be. Despite being ready to run more, I had to cut it short. It was far too cold, and I couldn't manage much more through the cramps.

I trotted back home and took refuge inside.
The run invigorated my body and made me stay awake for hours, but only long enough to fall asleep at 11 and screw up my sleep schedule even more.

Despite the strange conditions, the short run started the trend I have now fallen in love with, and is a lesson that doing the smallest bit makes a difference, and that if you feel even one iota of motivation in that moment, pursue it, or it might be gone the next along with a missed opportunity.

So get out there!!

March 15th 2011.