I've been threatening to do this for a while and I really want to have a fitness goal. Turns out, I have this crazy wonderful friend (emphasis on the word crazy -- she already runs and has a fantastic body and she is six years older than I am. I'd hate her if I didn't love her.) Mimi! Mimi was similarly looking for a fitness goal and (I have discovered) once committed will go after it with the vigor and determination of a Jack Russell terrier who has discovered a lizard in the back yard. (I know this -- my dog is half Jack Russell -- friggin' determined little thing when she has a target in her sights).
Mimi is my biggest motivator in this because, although I am not very competitive (I sit at football games and wince thinking 'If I EVER saw someone THAT size charging at me for something as insignificant as a football, I'd say 'here, it's all yours' and run the other way) -- I mean I am REALLY not competitive -- but I have this one little problem. I absolutely cannot stand feeling like I can't do something. So I suppose, in a way, I'm only competing against me. Mimi is competitive but has no wish to beat me, a fact for which I am eternally grateful and about which I will be reminding her that she had me beat out of the gate . . so this works out nicely for me.
This can count as our 'Starting Point' photo because as of the date of this picutre, we were talking about the Tough Mudder, but hadn't yet signed up.
Mimi is actually the kind of motivation I need. See, she texts me and says "Four miles in 40 minutes" . . . and I picture her lithe fit body sprinting along a running path in Malibu and that's what I imagine myself to be as I am huffing and puffing along the Pantano wash trail in Vail, AZ. I pretend I'm fit, and hot and my blonde hair is shining in the sunlight as my perfectly toned muscles glisten and the theme to Chariots of Fire plays faintly in the background.
The reality is that I'm listening to LMFAO's "I'm Sexy and I Know It" because I like telling myself that it has a 130 bpm and that's a perfect jogging pace for me. But really it's the ultimate fake it til you make it effort. I do not look sexy when I jog. I do NOT glisten gently when I run . . . I SWEAT, I turn red as a beet and I take on a facial expression that is a cross between constipation and agony. This is not my gorgeous moment. Not even close. While I do have blonde hair, and on a fan-freaking-tastic day, it had wonderful shiny moments, these will never occur as I run because I hate things tickling my face, so my hair is up and hidden and does not stream gracefully behind me anywhere. As a matter of pure fact -- there is no grace to this at all. Just determination at the moment. Stupid, stupid determination.
So -- back to the Tough Mudder and to Mimi and my final decision to abandon all claim to rational thought and cough up the $150 to register for this event.
the Tough Mudder is 10 - 12 miles of military style obstacles during which I'll be climbing, running, slogging, slithering, crawling, swimming and all manner of other things that seem a little insane now that I've irretrievalbly plopped down my registration fee.
Mimi is doing this with me. So she's crazy too. Did I mention I love her. I really really do. I do, because I'm scared. I've been building muscle -- and I do feel a little stronger, but holy sh*t, I have a long way to go and Mimi has never even suggested that this might not be possible and that we might actually be insane. Instead, she ends every message with "we can do this." So I really love her.
Today is September 8, 2012. T-minus 5 months and one day until the Tough Mudder. I have been working out regularly at the gym for about two months now and it's time to really start training in earnest.
For the next five months, I'll be posting pictures and discoveries and complaints because I'm curious and I want to keep a record of how this is impacting my morale, my life, and my body.
Quoth Mimi: We can do this.
Beth,
ReplyDeleteFirst, you know me so incredibly well. You are the most amazing friend, and we have Jeff to thank for that. I will always be your egg mate, as we are so very much alike, in tune with each other, able to complete each other's thoughts/sentences. Second, lizards. Nom nom. I won't beat you out of the gate. I will be right by your side, and I know that you will be right beside me. It's not about time or who's first. It's about us setting out to do something crazy. Wonderful crazy. "her lithe fit body"? I thought that I couldn't love you more, but this is inspiration to become this person. For the record, I sweat/stink/am flushed after a run. Not pretty, but it means that I worked hard. Yes, we can do this. Yes, I am crazy too. Yes, I love you too. Immense love for my egg mate. I don't suggest that we don't do this because no matter what the outcome is, we set out to do it. We trained hard. We had the best intentions. The best reason: we lived. No regrets. I love you. We can do this. We will do this. I will most likely fracture/tear/break something, but that won't matter. What matters is that we lived - and you know it. You feel it, too. We are crazy, but we are true to ourselves. Egg mates. Forever.
We can absolutely do this. I might cuss a lot though.
ReplyDeleteMight? We'll cuss like sailors and laugh like crazy women - as it should be. We can do this.
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