Day 7, Week 6: How smoking led me to running which has led to bad race photos.

This morning our resident meteorologist told me it was raining so I couldn't go for my planned bike ride that I had every intention of doing I swears.

So I settled for doing weights instead (Cathe's Total Body Giant Sets, as per usual for a Saturday).  To spice it up I challenged myself to really go deeper on all of the squats and lunges, which was stupid because I have an 18 mile run on tap for tomorrow.  It was also stupid because now my glutes are quite vocal every time I do things like "walk" or "stand up."

What wasn't stupid was the awesome pedicure to which I treated myself, which involved much leg massaging (for recovery, of course...) and awesome teal sparkly polish at the end.

As you can see, I don't get all gussied up for a pedi.  It's either running gear or super dressed up in my world.  I am a polarized in terms of fashion, you could say.

But why am I talking about pedicures?  What I want to talk about is how I came to know and love and torture myself with running.

Running defines me now, and I do a fantastic job of boring everyone to death with my running stories, tips, and advice.  But I wasn't always the idiot that accidentally signed up for two marathons on back-to-back weekends.  About seven and a half years ago running had no part of my life whatsoever.

I had lost 80 pounds (I was a size 2...way too skinny), eating better and was working out on the regular.

I'm so skinny I'm blurring as I slip from 3 dimensions into 2.

But my workouts mainly consisted of doing the same Tae Bo workout from the 90s every. single. day.  Occasionally I would throw in some Biggest Loser workout DVDs.  I didn't have a ton of variety in my workouts, obviously - and I also didn't vary the smoke break that would occur afterwards every. single. time.  My recipe for fitness success was "Workout/Smoke/Repeat."

Sad, I know.  But if you've never smoked, you don't know the hold those little white death sticks can have on you.  You don't know about the incredibly ridiculous addict thoughts you have like "If I don't smoke, WHAT WILL I DO WHEN I TAKE THE DOGS OUT?? I CAN'T QUIT!"  You really think you can't quit, even though you live with a person that doesn't smoke every single day of their lives AND takes the dogs out without smoking and manages to survive every. single. time.

Well, you think you can't quit until someone in your family dies of cancer.  Then seeing what it does to them makes you want to quit in a freaking hurry.  I did not want to die like that--and especially have it be of my own making.

So I decided to quit.  I gradually decreased my cig intake each week.  One of those weeks I was sitting at my hair salon, waiting for my appointment.  I noticed a flyer on the window that advertised a local 5K race, and it got me to thinking these thoughts:

• What's a 5K?  Is that where people run?
• How long is a 5K, anyway?
• I wonder if I could run a 5K...however long that is.
• This 5K is only two weeks away.  Plenty of time to train, right?  Right?  (This is how much I knew about running....NOTHING)

I went home and signed up immediately, like an idiot.  And then I started my even more idiotic two-week training plan.  The only non-idiotic part was the fact that I completely quit smoking during those two weeks.  I had gotten myself down to three glorious ciggies a day (which, from two packs a day, was freaking spectacular).  But my life began to revolve around those three cigarettes, so, on June 15th, 2010, I gave what was left of my ciggies to the hubbs for him to dispose of as he wished.

And on June 19th, 2010 I ran that damn 5K.

This is a pic of an addict being born...a running addict.

I ran the race in about 30 minutes, and I managed to run the whole thing even though I had planned to run/walk the last mile.  After the race I managed to tell the story of this race to pretty much everyone I ever met, and my running addiction was born.  I realized I could never go back to smoking if I wanted to get better at running, and get better I did.  After that hit of running crack that was that initial 5K, there came many more 5Ks, 10Ks, about 30 half marathons, 26 full marathons, and even a few mud obstacle races just because, you know, variety.

So, because of smoking, I now run.  A lot.  I guess you could say smoking led me to running, according to those wacky ways that the universe works.  You could also say that my running now leads all of you to see stupid race photos like this one.

Need learnings?  See below:

• I laid off the bullet points in this post.  You're welcome.
• My goal is to bike at least one more time before the weather decides to actually be winter at some point.
• Pedis aren't a luxury when you're a runner - they're necessary foot maintenance.  That's what I tell the hubbs, anyway.
• When I found out a 5K was three WHOLE miles and then some I was all "oh crap what have I gotten myself into this time"
• I heard you laughing when you read "Tae Bo."  Yes I did.
• I want you to know that the woman in green in my race photo crashing my crazy photo with her own crazy is my hero.
• I also want you to know that because smoking led me to running which led to wacky race photos, we ALL benefit, really.
• If I can start running, anyone can.  

Tomorrow's workout:  18 miles in 25+ mph winds.  I can feel the fun in this run already.  Not really.