The first run

It was the beginning of April. Warmer than you might expect for my climate (5C). I joined a sister and her friend for my very first running class. It'd been three months since I birthed my second child. My exercise was modest. But I was back at Weight Watchers and down to 221.4lbs. (Down from ~240lb pre-baby).

The class was intimidating. There were all shapes and and sizes, but I was by far the fattest. The largest. The least impressive looking.

Our first night was going to be running down a major highway in my small community. I was embarrassed I'd be seen. Afraid I couldn't do it.

They were reasonable fears. All true in the end. I was seen. I couldn't keep up. We covered 3.4km. The whole thing as 1 minute runs and 1 minute walks. Or some people did. Not me. We were rained on. All in all, it was an ordeal that I never wanted to repeat.

I made many mistakes on that first run. It was too fast. It was too far. I tried to keep up. I was over dressed. By far the most embarrassing part was that I leaked. As in urinary incontinence. Cold, wet, covered in hives and dragged myself home and into the shower and swore to never return. (A quick shower, of course, the baby was waiting to be fed!)

There were three positive things that came out of that class.
1. I stuck with the running, not the class, but the running.
2. I got a training schedule that got me started.
3. I got a sheet of stretches that became my bible.

Maybe the larger thing is that I learned that this had to be about me, about my program and not about what a 140lb 5'10" man thought would be easy for anyone.

For the record: I'm frightened to weigh myself. I'm coming up on 28 weeks pregnant and I was over 245lbs last time I checked. Gained 5 lbs in a week. My prenatal workout class has ended and I haven't been on the treadmill in over a week.