Who am I?

You’ll have to excuse me if this one is all over the place – I just got back from a run and I had a lot of things I wanted to share.

So who am I? I’ve been asking myself that a lot lately. And I found myself wondering just that again during my run tonight. I left Matt’s house, took the right out toward my short course, ran from one end of the last street down to the other end and back. It’s about a 2 mile course.

I decided to take it easy tonight because I spent part of the evening tweaking the bike – she saw sunlight for the first time since Top Gun. And the truth is, I was hungover. (Another story. Another time.) But as I finished out the “out” and started on my “back” (You know – “out and back route”  - I thought it was cute), I noticed something.

I felt really strong. I was breathing easy. I had set myself a good pace. I didn’t feel the need to walk a single step. I wasn’t checking my iPod Touch every five seconds. I wasn’t flipping through songs trying to find the energy to push. I was just running.

So I considered running a bit farther – passing Matt’s street and heading out on the longer route. At first, I thought it was a bad idea. I didn’t want to get out there and wear myself out. (I’m going to do a 6-miler with a running group tomorrow.) I thought of every reason not to do it. But instead, I found that I really wanted to continue running. And that was my moment: “Who am I?”

So I got to thinking about it. Well, Kat. Who are you? You’re a girl that’s never really liked running. You’re a techie obsessed with gadgets. You’ve lost 40 pounds. You skipped your swim last night to make friends with your new volleyball team. But here you are today, feeling strong, healthy, knowing you can’t be perfect but somehow you’ll get back on track. Somehow, this time, it’s different.

Today, I didn’t feel the need to be “fast” to feel strong. I wasn’t worried about my Newtons or my Nike+ or my form. I was just a girl. Running.

My thoughts trailed off to a post (among other things) that my friend Caitlin wrote – this incredibly powerful and deeply personal post about how running has changed her life.

I thought about how much Caitlin inspires me – as a journalist, as a deeply personal and horrifically honest zinester, as a runner, as a friend. As someone knowledgeable. Someone patient. She’s just an incredible person to have in your corner and she’s inspired me in more ways than she probably realizes.  I really wanted you guys to find her – because she puts words to feelings that I haven’t even really even figured out yet. And because she needs to know how fucking incredible she is as a runner, writer, feminist, survivor (“I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother” – whoa, sorry – a.d.d. just kicked in.)

I got to thinking about her transformation. And mine. I realized how strong (yes, I keep saying that) and proud and sexy I felt. Like a “cheetah in human form” as Caitlin wrote.

My mind also flitted off to JP. I remembered how fucking hard it was to do this. I remember reading and being inspired and wanting to go out and just run a marathon. I remember reading and thinking somehow I could. Then I would get out there – faced with shin splints and depleted oxygen and exhaustion and I would just want to quit. I wanted to spit in my own face for being so pathetic.

Until today. I’ve been glimpsing this feeling – this “runners high” or whatever you call it. But today I grasped it – grabbed a hold of it, wrung my little fingers around its neck, and sat on top of it refusing to let it escape.

I would never let this feeling go. If you could only feel this. This is unexplainable.

I saw a sign on Kennedy (after eating a guilty meal) that said “nothing tastes as good as being thin.” And you know what – it’s true. Really. Truly. I feel so good. I mean, I still look in the mirror and find flaws. Plenty. Ridiculous amounts. But the difference is I don’t feel beat to death when I’m playing sports. I no longer feel like this is “just some torturous drudgery I [do] so I [can] stay healthy.” I am confident and casual and happy – even though I am not perfect.

Oh, and I rode my bike today too. That was the other thing. Not far. Not fast. Hell, it took me forever to realize that I wasn’t comfortable “sitting up” anymore. My belly is gone. My back wants to stay flat. I rested my arms on the handle bar (you know, the middle) as if I had tri bars. I felt like I could peddle for days, but I was racing the sunset.

But back to this post.

I wanted to tell you, whoever you are – the lurkers, the link-clickers, the stumble-upons, my friends, the person who hasn’t started their journey, the person who has failed and is looking for inspiration, the person who has lost himself/herself, the person who thinks it’s hopeless, the person who doesn’t know how good this feels – do it. Get off your fucking couch and do it. Do it over and over and over again. It sucks. It takes forever. But when you get here – and I’m not talking about weight anymore – you will never, ever go back.

And I wanted to shout out to JP, because of the Prior Fat Family (who I love dearly and read religiously) you are the most attentive and involved person in my journey. You take the time to read my comments, respond, and even comment over on my side occasionally. I don’t claim to be as well-written or organized or inspiring as these girls – and I know they are busy, busy, busy – but it’s nice to reach out and have the hand reach back.

So I wanted to shout you out JP. I wanted to tell you: you can rock this.

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I guess mini agrees! Funny!