I want to run.
Or at least, I want to move as fast as the senior citizen lady who often is at the gym at the same time I am and walks for 45 minutes at 3.2 mph.
I can’t remember ever feeling like my body was holding me back before. But it is, right now. I tried to walk my 45 minutes at 2.8 mph, and it hurt. Not the good kind of stretching-and-pushing hurt. The bad, stop-before-you-really-hurt-yourself hurt.
It starts with a stiff feeling in my ankles, then explodes into a sharp aching pain along the outsides of my legs from my ankle to my knee. My right leg is worse, but the left hurts, too.
And–oh! It’s so frustrating. So damn frustrating.
My head is running. It’s skating and skiing and riding a bike. It’s thinking about belly dancing classes and a kick-ass boot camp. It has the wind in its hair and a light, easy step.
My body is lagging. It hurts. And I’m smart enough to know that hurts means stop. Slow down. Let my legs have a chance to catch up.
It’s hard to remember that I am The Warrior, even if I can only walk 2.5 mph right now.
Then I watch the video and you know . . . it helps to make a believer out of me. Honest. Watch it, you’ll see. If Patty Smyth can be The Warrior in that get up? I can be The Warrior at 2.5 mph.