Run, Forrest, Run

I love to run. I love the feeling. Pure freedom. Exhilaration. And when you're in the zone, you don't tire. The running actually energizes you.

I imagine that's the way running is. I wouldn't know. The only running I've ever done is in my dreams, literally. Every once in a while, I will have a dream where I'm running. Not for my life, not in fear of something, not away from someone, not even toward something specific. Just running for the joy of it.

And when I wake up after the dream, for a brief moment, I still feel the joy.

Tonight at the gym, I ran. By chance. One of the trainers told me that even though I was working hard on the treadmill, I wasn't hitting my target heart rate. I was building cardio endurance, but not burning calories as much as I could. Even walking with the incline at 7 or 8, walking at 3.7 mph, I was still only at 120.

So she suggested running. It was hard. It wasn't exhilarating. I ran for one minute, at 5 mph, with no incline. Then walked for four, at 4 mph. And then did it again. And again. By my third minute of running, I was exhausted. But my heart rate was up to 180, in the high end of target zone.

And I thought, I can do this. I can run. I might not run a marathon. But if I run three segments of one and four for a while, I can certaintly increase my segments and/or the length of time I'm running.

And tonight, as I'm watching the Yankees lose to the Angels (who, to me, are still the California Angels, but don't get me started on that), I've made a pledge to myself. I'm going to run. Run like the wind. And by this time next year, I'm going to run a 5K.

Because we're nothing if we don't set goals for ourselves. And sure, every once in a while I might put a "gimme" on my to-do list, just so I can cross something off. The four minutes of walking will be my gimme -- the one minute and beyond is my goal. And the 5K will be my prize.