Fitness · Running · yoga

Here We Go!

Remember how I said that my theme word this year is faith? Well, this week I decided to take a leap of it. Two leaps, actually.

I’ve been thinking for weeks…okay, months…that I’d like to get back into running local races. Nothing in the double-digit-mileage distances that would require an extended training plan, nothing with a lottery, no bucket list check-off needed – just something that would get me back out there. Back to a packet pick-up, back to pre-race butterflies, back to openly, unabashedly striving for something. I haven’t run a formal race since the Marine Corps Marathon in October of 2015. It’s been too long.

For about as long, I’ve had the same thoughts about doing yoga again. Yes, it requires scheduling, gathering of stuff (mat, towel, water, willingness to publicly display my utter lack of flexibility), and driving to a studio.  It’s slightly more involved than a quick wardrobe change and hopping out the door for a run, but from what I can remember, the effort is worth it. And from deep inside a rarely-opened closet in my house, my yoga mat has been calling my name.

Thoughts about racing and yoga kept circling. Finally, I’d had it. I mean, a woman can only stand so much wishy-washyness before Action, with a capital A, needs to be taken.

And that’s how, in a single evening, I signed up to take a hot yoga class this weekend, AND registered to run a 10K on Super Bowl Sunday.


I am a wee bit nervous. I’m pretty confident that I’ve regressed to beginner status in hot yoga, and I’ve never been to this particular yoga studio before. Will the instructor be a gentle type, or will I melt into a weeping, sweaty child’s pose 20 minutes into class? Who knows? I figure if I just concentrate on breathing, I’ll be okay.

Same goes for the 10K. At least I know the course is flat. And I’m pretty confident (knocking on wood) that I will NOT melt into a weeping, sweaty child’s pose 20 minutes into it. But no matter what, if I concentrate on breathing, I’ll be fine. Breathe through pinning the number on my shirt. Breathe through walking to the starting line. Breathe through each and every one of those 6.2 miles.

If I can get this breathing thing down, maybe leaps of faith won’t feel like leaps – maybe they’ll feel more like fun little skips. Wouldn’t that be great?


6 thoughts on “Here We Go!

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