I liked running as a kiddo, then sometime in middle school, I was introduced to punishment runs. Up-back-up-back-up-back-up-back for basketball, 6 down and backs for volleyball. I started to not like running. By the time I was in college, I missed the gym runs. They were replaced by outside pyramid runs on the track or infinite runs on the in the gym. When we were told to change out of our gym shoes, take off the knee pads, and lace up our sneakers, we knew we were in for a long night of running. One time, after a game, such was the case, and the coach had us on the line long after the stands were empty and the net down. She blew the whistle, walked out of the gym, and nothing was heard but the echoing sound of running feet on the hardwood floor. I remember being so angry. I remember questioning my sanity. I remember telling myself that one day I wouldn't hate running. One day I was going to run a marathon and not hate it.
Nine months after giving birth to my daughter, I once again questioned my sanity as I toured the boroughs of New York City. I'd made my peace with running. I claimed the title of runner during that process. I wasn't super fast, but I had the tenacity to hold it together to finish.
The time recently passed when I was going to do my first sprint triathlon. When we learned of Tesla, I knew there was no way I'd be able to keep my heart rate down below the recommended level of 165 beats per minute. I can't even lightly jog and keep that hr down. I just get too excited, too amped up. So walking it is. To not be a total shock to my system, I've been walking less than 2 miles at a time, closer to the one mile. I would like to work up to a comfortable 5 mile walk. I feel happier and the endorphins are mighty!