It was practically, nearly, almost my first ever run.
I mean, yeah, technically I’ve run before. I’ve run toward things. I’ve run away from things. (House spiders, I’m talking to you.) In the fifth grade I tried to run around the track with all the other kids. (No comment.)
But this Friday, I went on my frist-ever real run.
Now, actual-really-real runners (not to be confused with joggers) would probably scoff at my efforts, to say the least. To be less kind, they’d probably laugh until they threw up. Which I practically did after my huffing, puffing, giant-butt-bouncing mile.
But dudes. I did it.
Around my block, run-walk-gasp-run…a full mile.
Warning to new runners: for the entire day after this venture, I coughed badly. I consulted Facebook – which is almost certainly a better resource than, you know, a qualified physician – and most people in the ten Groups or so that I begged to join told me that this can be normal at first.
Adding in the fact that I’m nearly two hundred pounds and haven’t moved faster than a granny crawl (bitching all the way) in probably forty years, that little cough does make sense.
There are other things a cough after running can be, so I’m not saying that if you’re gagging for a week after your jog, it’s all copacetic. There’s running-induced asthma, as well as, apparently, something called bronchoconstriction. That’s just like it sounds: your bronchial thingies constrict. And ladies, that just can’t be good.
You’re supposed to call a doctor about the possibility of any of that, but I just choked through my day and amazingly, I was all better by morning, except for my knees, but we’ll get to that in a later post.
My plan for now is to run every other day with strength training in between. I need to build up some muscle in my thighs, if there actually is any in there to begin with. I’m not quite sure. Guess we’ll find out! Stay tuned.
Oh, and…yay me.