You know that feeling you get when you start running in the cold, and for the first several minutes, you’re wondering what possessed you to get out of your warm, comfortable bed to face the excruciatingly cold winds that always seem to be blowing in your direction as you run? Or that weird feeling you get when you notice out of your peripheral vision that your eyelashes are frozen in place and that there’s an icicle starting to form? Or that sweet, sweet moment when you find your stride and the rest dissipates into a surge of excitement, joy and even peace?
Me neither. I would need to be a runner in some capacity to experience any of these moments and feelings. But the other day as I was celebrating with my sister on her achievement of running 1200 miles in 2012, and listening to two colleagues smile as they talk about that moment when you hit your stride, I felt…left out. Not left out from their companionship or joy, but I tangibly felt as though I were missing out on something.
This isn’t about making a new year’s resolution to exercise more. I’ve never had a resolution to exercise more. I joined a gym once in November because I thought I should and only used it to take Lexi swimming. I don’t have this compulsion to lose weight for the sake of it. I like where I am and am comfortable in my own skin.
No, for me, listening to them express their feelings about running just made me want to run for the first time…ever. Technically, I’ve participated in a few marathons and half-marathons if flying to a marathon, making signs and chasing my sister in between mile markers counts as participating, but I’ve never wanted to get a real pair of running shoes, find a running partner and run to a really great playlist on my Ipod.
Maybe it’s the desire to “hit my stride” that I long for. I recently accepted a new position in a new office with a new mindset, and I’m still in that “My face is frozen; when am I going to feel my lips again?” phase.
I was told on several occasions that the learning curve can last up to a year? I’m afraid I’ll have hypothermia by then. But I can actually see the pay-off, the sweet moment when you know all of your effort and work will come into fruition and that the result will be tremendous joy and peace.
I’m wondering whether I should start running, though, just so I’ll know what it feels like to have frozen eyelashes.
I’ll think about it…as soon as I finish this jar of chocolate covered peanuts.