I was running on the trail around the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir in Central Park last fall, with my music up loud, minding my own business. Suddenly a bird lit from a low-lying branch just over my head and came straight at me. Before I could duck, it flew directly into me, whacking me square on the forehead. First, I screamed, mostly out of surprise, and then laughed hysterically. As I continued my run, I noticed people staring at me. I checked my clothes for bird droppings, but thankfully found nothing. Then I vigorously rubbed my sweaty forehead, only to have bird feathers come off in my hand.
This is just the beginning of a host of running adventures I could write about, which surprises me, because sports and all things athletic have always intimidated this singer. Somewhere in the course of a year, however, I’ve become a runner. I’m still much too novice to use terms like “recovery time,” “gel packs,” and “fartlek,” but I am passionate enough to talk about it until non-runners’ eyes glaze over.
My introduction to running all started over a business luncheon in December 2007. A colleague at the table announced he had decided to run a marathon the following April. We all listened incredulously as he told us of his plan to essentially go from a primarily sedentary lifestyle to running 26.2 miles in a matter of four months. Utter craziness, I thought.
Perhaps because of my competitive nature, or simply the amount of food I had consumed at lunch, by the end of the meal I wanted to give running a try. Not a marathon, for heaven’s sake, but maybe a 5K or even a 10K by the spring. If this guy could do it, why couldn’t I?
That afternoon, with my lunch still sitting heavy in my stomach, I consulted Google for training program options. One seemed right up my alley: “The Couch-to-5K Running Plan.” Based on the philosophy that people get turned off to running because they try to do too much too soon, the program starts out very slowly alternating running and walking over a 30-minute period.
The program worked, and more than a year later, I’m hooked.
I have been less than successful with many other attempts at change in my life. So why did this one stick? Perhaps because it never was a resolution, but something I started at slowly, got passionate about, and then consistently did more and more. There were some setbacks, like an injury that forced me to rest for a month, as well as some weeks when my schedule was simply too full to fit it in. But eventually I laced up the running shoes and hit the pavement once more.
As February rolls around and 2009 marches on, I plan to apply this same philosophy to other areas I’m striving to improve in my life. Rather than wait for another New Year’s, or try to do too much too soon, or stop altogether because of a setback or two, I want to keep working at change bit by bit. When I’m unable to duck the low-flying birds in my path, I’ll rub the feathers off my sweaty forehead and get back up on that horse. (That’s probably two too many animal analogies, but you get the idea.)
