Perhaps.

Curing my weight room intimidation?

Strength Day or Why the Weight Room Intimidates Me

I hate strength day. I don’t like lifting. I don’t like when I forget gloves and the sensitive skin on my hands get torn up. I especially don’t like being the only woman in the weight room.

I learned a long time ago that strong muscles are the key to a strong runner. If my legs are weak, my stride will be weak, my endurance will be crap, and I will not finish anywhere near where I want.

But, my God, going in the weight room is enough to set my social anxiety (which is otherwise nonexistent) at a level of 100 (on a scale of 1-10). All the dudes stare at me like I’m insane, and the trainers always seem to be watching me out of the corner of their eye. I feel like not only do I just need to get through my workout, which is fairly demanding for me, but that I also need to perform above expectations. Everyone seems to be watching me, and if I slip or wobble on one exercise, I can practically hear the judgments. And no, please, I am not paranoid. This is what I’ve observed not only in my own experience, but what I’ve seen other women at my gym experience as well. Luckily, I can go to my gym at a time of day when it’s not generally very busy, and save the busy times for when I run.

Either way, my strength day went well. I’ve been able to gradually increase my weight on squats and deadlifts. Yeah buddy.

Things are okay.

The Truth.

The Beginning (Sort of)

I’m a competitive person.

Whether it’s against myself, my family, my friends, my teammates, my coworkers, or the person on the treadmill next to me, I am always competing. I want to always achieve and be the best. Academically, socially, athletically.

 

This is the driving force that is pushing my attempt at a half marathon.

The post of a Facebook friend (who shall remain nameless) pushed me. One of their races this year is the Philadelphia Rock & Roll half marathon. Last year, I competed in four races, all 5k’s, nothing too challenging. Except for the mud. That was challenging. But now, there was something inside of me that needed me to step up. To go for something that I said I would never do. Run 13.1 miles.

So here I am.

I have completed 3 mud runs, a “regular” 5k, skied on black diamonds my 3rd time on skis, stood on my head in a yoga studio, and hiked straight up a mountain in Vermont.

 

This is just the next step.