Joggers thoughts.

 Running is not my thing.  I love cross training, cardio, yoga, weight training, and I love pushing my body to the limit, but I HATE running.  I feel like I need to get into running because I think I would really love it, and it is a great calorie burn.

Ok, so what is stopping me from running? 

1.  No one is with me, and I used to walk/jog with my mom so I was used to having someone to talk to. 
2.  My ipod shuffle is in need of a charge, and a redo on the song list. 
3.  I need to push myself far enough that I will actually achieve a runners high. 
4.  I need to have the confidence that I can do it.

I know it seems odd that I would be mentioning confidence, but I am getting to that part. 

Last week, I recharged and reorganized the song list for my shuffle.    I was really excited to use it, and yesterday I dusted off my outside sneakers and hit the pavement.   First, Bill and I went for a walk together it was nice to just get on the road with him and get a chance to talk.  Then after that I grabbed my ipod and went out for a run on my own.  Before you get too excited I only jogged 2 miles.   But I did it I jogged. 

I started off jogging for a few minutes and then power walking for a few.   My power walking is more like power dancing though since I have a dance jog.   You can ask my mom, she always said I was really sporty but I ran like a girl.  I am taking that as a compliment.  :)

Two songs in I start to think.  That is right, I completely miss the point of getting lost in the music and pounding my feet into the pavement.  I think.    I have a complete philosophical conversation with myself about confidence levels in myself and people around me.    I realize with a huff that although I have a lot of confidence in a lot of areas in my life this is one place where I apparently need some.  This conversation with myself only lasts one song before I realize that I need to just do this.  I gave myself a goal of two miles and I am going to do two miles. 

I start going a bit faster pumping my arms to the beat, and I am off.     Step, step, step, step.   The cold air is stinging my lungs, my eyes and my nose.   A few songs later I am home, and glancing at the clock.  22 minutes, 2 miles. 

Ok, so I didn't get a runner's high, but I didn't hate it.