Cereal and Self-Doubts

I've been eating a lot of cereal -- I'm not sure why that's relevant to the blog, but I felt like it needed to be written.

In the office of our school is a huge box of individual containers of cereal -- mostly Crispix and Cocoa Krispies...and I find myself eating one to two a day as my "snack." I wish I could say I feel guilty about this, but I really don't. Let's look at my menu for today:

This morning, I had a Fiber One toaster pastry, which was actually delicious. I also had my morning coffee.
A few hours later, I had a little box of Crispix.
Then, I had my lunch, which was an individual container of Mac and Cheese.
Two hours later, another cereal.
When I get home, I'll have some sort of fruit and then dinner. Then we'll go to the gym and that will be the end of the eating.

I don't think that's so bad, but maybe I'm warped.

In other news, I had a surge of self-doubt yesterday before our W4D1 run. Could I do this? Why on Earth did I think this was possible? I'm fat. I'm out of shape. Even in my thinnest, most athletic days, I couldn't run. I'd run a lap around the soccer field, and then go into an asthmatic fit. Or...our softball coach would have us run for ten minutes, and I would make it three. Four if I was lucky.

And last night's run looked like this:
5 minute warm up walk
3 minute jog
90 sec. walk
5 minute jog
2 1/2 minute walk
3 min. jog
90 sec. walk
5 min. jog
5 min. cool down walk

Five minutes. These people want me to run/jog for 5 minutes without stopping...twice.

And I really just didn't think it was possible. Then I look ahead to W5D3, and it's a TWENTY MINUTE RUN. And I want to fall over, throw in the towel, eat a donut...anything but even try.

So last night we get out there, and I have my knee brace on (I was really struggling), and the three minute jog begins...so there I go. Jog jog jog. Nik is ahead of me, and I keep telling myself, "It's not a race. It's not a race. Just keep going." And before I knew it -- seriously, before I knew it, the three minutes was over. I actually thought to myself, "Really? That's it?" That's it.

But it still wasn't five minutes. When the five minutes started, I stopped thinking. I started telling myself, "See that house down the road? You're going to make it there." Then I'd get there and say, "Good, now go to THAT house...THAT lamp post...THAT sewer lid." And the five minutes came and went. And I survived.

I survived -- for the first time in my LIFE -- a five minute run.

Wait. Wait.

I did it twice. The last minute of the last five minute jog was a struggle...I had to keep persuading my legs to keep going. Lift up, move forward, keep going. At one point I said aloud, "Come on, finish this." And I did. We both did.

It's unbelievable. We're out there and jogging/running/wogging. We're not eating ice cream in front of the TV. We're not drenching french fries in ranch. We're working out 4, 5, 6 times a week. It's amazing.

If I can do D1, I can do D2 and D3. I need to NOT think about Week 5. I'll think about it this weekend...