Last night, I was trying to decide whether or not to run at the gym this morning. I was arguing with myself about how I really need to stay home and sew, and I had this fleeting thought - "But it would be fun to go running." What???!!!!!!!
Let me back up and say that for my entire life I have stood by the statement - "I hate running." In the 8th grade we were forced to run 2 miles twice a week, and in an effort to motivate us, my gym teacher said, "I know you can do this. It is only 20 minutes of your life. Someone could beat you for 20 minutes and you would live." So, running has always been tightly associated with a good beating in my mind.
My husband, on the other hand, loves to run. (He also says he loves to sweat and to feel really sore after a good workout.) For his birthday two years ago he said that he wanted our family to run a 5k together. I had never run that far in my life, but we all got up at 5am one Saturday and ran. It actually was kind of fun - mainly due to the fact that a large group of police cadets ran in formation while chanting encouraging words the whole race. But after that race, I realized that I can get really good exercise in just 30 minutes. The efficiency of running drew me in.
I started going to the gym once or twice a week to run for 30 minutes while watching TV. I had to have the distraction of "world news" to make it. I have forced myself for two years now to do this. I started to enjoy knowing what was going on in the world , but I never never never thought I would enjoy the running. And I can't say that I felt like I was having "fun" while I was running this morning. But the thought I had last night - that came from somewhere deep in my subconscious - gave me hope. Hope that I can change and grow and learn and enjoy things I never thought I could.