Wait, why am I doing this?

Now, I'm not entirely new to running. Don't get me wrong, I have never exited beginner status in the endeavor, but I have attempted to start running programs several times. Interestingly, each effort ended with me coming to a dead halt while trying to force myself up a hill, asking myself, "Wait...why am I doing this," and then turning around, heading home, and spending the rest of the day nestled happily in my couch groove. Granted, I'm only about three or four weeks into this thing, but I can't help but notice that things just seem so different this time.

On Tuesday, the husband and I ventured out on what our book described as an "easy recovery run." For squishy people who max out at about three consecutive minutes of running, this means completing nine sets of running for two minutes and walking for two minutes. If you recall, we (well, mostly the husband, but I'd be lying if I claimed I didn't feel as though I had been run over by a bus the next day too) nearly died during our first run of Week Three, so I'm pretty sure this run was designed to serve both as an ego booster and as an opportunity for our poor, beat-up bones and muscles to rest a little. If this was indeed the intention, it worked, because that run was easy, a boost to which the husband and I greedily clung.

The next run, on Thursday, was not only a return to running for three minutes, followed by walking for two minutes, but also doing this nine times. And at 5:30 in the morning, because I had to get up at 8:00 AM to go to my weekly practicum at the local hospital. I won't lie - it was HARD to get up. In fact, we almost didn't. There was literally a point where the husband and I, in unison, said, "Let's just run tomorrow," and went back to bed. It was only while lying there, feeling guilt and disgust creep through me at the thought of our wimpiness, that I kicked us out of bed and forced us to go running. Ultimately, I'm really glad I did, because our run was AWESOME. Despite the early hour and the hills in our neighborhood, there was none of the fatigue we experienced on Sunday, and our stints of running actually felt easy again. We were awestruck.

I think what's different from the previous times I've tried to take up running (aside from the helpful fact that I now have a permanent running buddy in the hubs) is my reason for doing so. In the past, to be perfectly honest, my primary motivator was to lose weight, so that I wouldn't want to throw up whenever I saw myself in a swimsuit. Now that I've hooked the husband and have someone who is obligated to tell me how amazing I look all the time, even if my swimsuit physique is still somewhat lacking, that's not really something I worry about (at least as much) anymore. This time, I wanted running to be something he and I could do together that would make us athletes, in our own little low-key way.

Although we're still far from being people you could describe with that word, I do feel as though we're headed in that direction. There is something so addictive about running up a hill you nearly blacked out attempting the week before or pushing yourself to run for longer than you have previously and finding out that you can do it this time without wishing someone would just put you out of your misery. Similarly, it stuns me over and over again when my muscles complain after being challenged more during a Sunday run (the start of each new week of our program), only to handle the same amount of work later in the week without any (or at least much less) whining. Basically, where I'm going with all this sappiness is the idea that feeling myself get stronger and fitter each time I go out for a run is so much better than doing this to just lose weight. It makes me excited to go running, rather than dreading it with every fiber of my being.

And the irony is that I've already lost three pounds. Go figure.