Since my boyfriend and I moved in together after graduation two weeks ago, we’ve been doing a lot of “grown up things,” like spending over $1,000 on furniture, putting together IKEA products, cooking real meals, and working out together.
Last week I decided to try to go for a run (which I haven’t done in, like, ever). I ran a mile. If you know me, you’ll know that’s a huge feat. I actually remember the last time I ran a mile before that – it was freshman year of college when I thought for a hot second that I would try out for the crew team (by later that day I decided I wasn’t going to try out).
So imagine my surprise today when I decided to try to run two miles and I actually did it. I immediately texted everyone in my phone (my mom, my best friends, etc.) because running two miles is something I thought I’d never do. Not even that I couldn’t, but that I just wouldn’t even ever try.
My best friend and fellow running hater, Lauren, texted me back and said, “Noooooo why would you do that?” Good question, I thought, why would I do that? I hate running. I would much rather take an exercise class, like cardio kickboxing or hip hop pole dancing. “I’m trying to be a grown up,” I told her. “I want to be able to successfully run a 5K. Grown ups run 5Ks.” I think she was surprised by my response. Since when does being a grown up mean you have to be able to run a 5K?
I guess I associate running 5Ks with other grown up things like wearing sunscreen when you don’t want to and making dinner even though you can afford to eat out because the successful adults in my life run 5Ks. A lot of successful young people I know run 5Ks also, but with my transition into the “real world” of post-grad life, I decided it’s time to get my grown up on.
Next time, 3 miles.