There’s an old saying that it takes three days to develop a bad habit and three weeks to develop a good one. I’m going to modify that old saying a bit as it seems to take me only three minutes to develop a bad habit—while the good ones, it seems like I battle with forever.
But I did have a breakthrough yesterday.
After six weeks of struggling with short sprints/walking in my 5K training and seemingly getting nowhere, I finally made significant progress. Right after I hit the “Publish” button on yesterday’s whiny, negative blog, I tied on my running shoes, girded my loins (whatever that means), steeled my mind, and hit Palm Valley Road.
And I ran without stopping for 1 ½ miles. Without stopping even once. That’s half a 5K.
I didn’t struggle, I didn’t think I was dying, and I wasn’t afraid. I just ran.
I passed a much younger, thinner person walking down the road who smiled encouragingly at me. I passed an old man pushing a toddler in a stroller, holding a dog on a leash, who nodded at me. An 80-year-old man on a bicycle rode past me and said encouragingly, “Lookin’ good!” I ran past a postal worker emptying mail from a blue drop box, and she didn’t even look up, so my panting must not have been EMT-summoningly alarming.
And I ran. Just like Forrest Gump. Well, slower. Much slower. It wasn’t pretty, but I ran.