Body in Motion

I've joined a running group. My 46-year-old, likes-to-lie-on-the-couch, doesn’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed, life-is-better-when-horizontal body is now running. My legs are not happy about it.

Back in February, there was a listing for a beginner’s running group in the newsletter put out by the New York GLBT Center. The group was being scheduled to meet twice each week, Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings, beginning in April. It was going to continue for twelve weeks, culminating in a 5-mile race in Central Park on Saturday, June 28. The race, it read quite clearly, was optional.

Doing something healthy for my body was part of a rather long list of resolutions I had sworn to stick to for 2008. And this seemed to fit very well into the plan.

Friends weren’t so sure, especially my friend M. It wasn’t the actual running that concerned M, as much as the time of day on Saturdays. M is a late-sleeper on weekends and considers anything before noon the middle of the night. M is known for becoming both puzzled and suspicious when she hears that things can actually occur in the morning. “What time on Saturdays?” She asked. “We start at 9:30.” I answered. M’s face went white and I think I saw her hands shaking a bit. “IN THE MORNING?” She looked a little dizzy, like she might faint and had to steady herself by getting a firmer grip on her martini glass.

When class # 1 rolled around on Tuesday evening three weeks ago, I met my running mates. All of us were seemingly feeling the same combination of eagerness and dread. What were we all doing here? Surely there were comfy armchairs complete with a few beers and bags of chips out there and you could practically hear them calling to us to stop this madness and return to where we rightfully belonged.

But our coach was friendly and encouraging and managed to get us onto the streets and off to the running path that runs along the West Side Highway. The plan was to start with a combination of both walking and running, and then slowly build up the running time. It was easy that first night and I found myself actually contemplating that 5 mile race at the end. Could I actually manage that? Would my "isn't it enough exercise to walk all the way to the bathroom?" self learn to embrace a healthier lifestyle? Suddenly, I was absolutely positive that this would all be a breeze. Besides, it was just Tuesdays and Saturdays. Who couldn't handle twice a week?

At the end of the first class, Coach J asked how we felt, told us we had all done a good job and that he’d see us on Saturday morning. He then said “Oh and I’ll email you the schedule for the runs you’ll be doing on the days we don’t meet. There’ll be one day a week off, so I’ll send a schedule for the other six days each week when you’ll be running.” Um, six?

I could hear that comfy armchair, the beer and those chips again. I swear they were laughing.