Rachel Reports Life

I started this weekend excursion to Philly out right: by leaving my gym bag at the office. In typical me fashion, I realized I had one less bag after I was on the bus. If both the boy and I didn’t like the gym so much, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but there I was: no Asics, no sports bra, no compression shorts.

Good job, Rachel.

I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, that I could just elliptical or bike or lift weights in socks, whatever. Running? Out of the question.

But then, I went to the gym in a normal t-shirt, old sweatpants, and a pair of flats, and I took a lap around the indoor track. In socks. It wasn’t bad at all - in fact, it was pretty great to just be running at all.

Four miles were on the schedule, and instead of leaving them until Monday, I just kind of decided to go for it. In sweatpants. In a very regular bra. IN SOCKS. Never done that one before.

Every lap around the track brought the same thought - “Huh, this no-shoes thing isn’t that bad. I’ll go until the end of this song and then see how I feel.” The song would end, and I just kept going. And going. And going. Until suddenly, I had been running for 45 minutes and felt like I could run 45 more.

I think I needed a reminder of how good running is when you just DO it, not when you think about it and not when you over-analyze your MPH and the temperature and whatever else pops into your head. It’s not supposed to be a battle with yourself. It’s just supposed to be one foot in front of the other, no matter the circumstances. And finally, by virtue of a pair of socks and lack of sports bra, I proved that to myself.

File under things I wouldn’t have done a year six months three weeks ago.