You don't have to be thin

"5 miles, it's only 5 miles", I told myself.

"I've done this before, I can do it now" I reassured myself.

I had convinced my family one Saturday that they really wanted to ride their bikes on the Cedar River Trail while I ran.

I needed to log my next long run, yet I wanted the kids and Jeff with me, so this was the compromise.

So here we were. The weather was beautiful, sun shining, 70 degrees in March. Mostly unheard of but always appreciated. And I was out enjoying it. Or trying to as my labored breathing and tired legs kept the constant rythm of two second inhale/2 steps taken, two second exhale/two steps taken.

I had decided to forego music as I ran so that I could talk to my husband as he pushed the younger ones in the jogger. Talking was accomplished because my running was slow enough that he could walk while pushing the jogger and still keep up with me. But whatever. "I'm out here, doing this, it really doesn't matter how slow I'm going", was the constant refrain I kept running through my head.

As I thought this, I remembered a time I had to tell myself this in order to overcome a rude comment I had to endure.

It was my freshman year at BYU, and I had been determined to not come home having gained weight. So I was out on my bike, trying to get some exercise. As I made my way down Freedom BLVD in Provo, a car full of boys drove by and yelled "Hey fat a*#!".

It hurt, just a little, but mostly it just made me mad. I thought "That's why I'm out here, you idiots." And I just couldn't figure out how anyone could berate someone trying to better themselves. It locked into my psyche, deep down, how important it was to not judge someone by their size, ever.

So as this memory and other thoughts ran through my head that sunny Saturday morning, I thought of a scene from earlier in the day. My neighbor down the way had been out in front of her house doing push ups and then went on a run past my house. I thought about coming home and telling her that I had run 5 miles, and then I imagined her looking up and down my 200 pound frame and saying, incredulously "YOU ran 5 miles?" and then my retort would be "You don't have to be skinny to run 5 miles. "

Now, she is a nice person, I don't really think for a minute she might actually say this. It was just my own funny mind wandering and playing out scenarios that will never happen. What? You don't do that?

So as I ran, and that last mile got more and more difficult, I repeated to myself, over and over, keeping with the rythm of my running, "You don't have to be thin to run. You don't have to be thin to run. "

And that truly got me through that last painful mile on what turned out to be a triumphant day for me. It wasn't anyone else running by and saying good job, it wasn't a huge banner hanging from my house when I got home (although that would have been nice).

It was me.

I encouraged myself. I didn't let anyone else claim responsibility for whether I finished that run or not. And that, I think, is what the real accomplishment was. Running that distance was great, but keeping the commitment to myself, and talking myself into finishing was the real victory.

And truly, you don't have to be thin to run any distance.

The week after that? I ran 6 miles. Still 200 plus pounds, but I ran it.
Now that may not work for everyone. Obviously (I hope) you have to listen to your body and what it wants to do. I suffer a little running at this weight. And I know that because I have run 50 pounds thinner, and let me tell you, that don't hurt as much!

But I hope you can see that the biggest limitations are the ones we give ourselves. Not what others say to us, nor what we may imagine others think of us.

Now, what I really want to know so that if I'm ever comtemplating giving up, if I've run out of my own positive reinforcement, what do you do to keep yourself going when it gets hard?

Do tell.