So I’ve been fairly successful so far with the Couch to 5K training program. Each week has been progressively harder, but I’ve managed to glide through most of it with little difficulty. OK, the 3 minute run intervals in week 3 were a little tough, but I recovered quickly and didn’t feel beat up at the end of my run.

But then came week 4.

The plan for week 4 is to run for 3 minutes, walk for 1.5 minutes, then run for 5 minutes, walk for 2.5 minutes, and then repeat all of that one more time. That equals a total run time of 16 minutes. Now, before this week, the total run time was 9 minutes. Adding 7 minutes to the run time seemed like an awfully big jump to me, not to mention running for 5 minutes seems like forever.

From the second I completed the last day of week 3, I agonized over how I was going to handle week 4. I got stuck on this week last year, unable to force my body to comply with a 5 minute run. How in the world was I going to do this without blowing out a lung? Or a spleen?

Today was the big day. And wouldn’t you know it – the hottest day of the year so far. At 8:30am, it was already 79 degrees and muggy. But I refused to back down, putting on my running shoes, grabbing my iPhone and heading for the sidewalk. I was going to do this.

The first 3 minute run was hard, but then again, the first run interval is always hard on me. My knees use that first interval as their attempt to stop me by aching and stiffening up. It’s not until the second interval that a pleasant numbness sets in through my legs and I forget about any knee pain. It felt like 3 minutes were taking forever – I was surprised how far I was traveling. At the end of that interval, I slowed to a walk and caught my breath, glancing down at my iPhone to see how little time I had to recover before starting the first 5 minute run.

I wasn’t ready for the 5 minute run, but started on cue anyway. I focused on my breathing and keeping my pace slow, refusing to look at how much time I had left. After what seemed like forever, I gave in to glance at my iPhone, sure that I was nearly done with this interval. 2:39 remaining! I’m never going to make it! I thought. The sun was beating down on me and I could feel the heat radiating all around me.

Somehow I did make it, slowing to a walk again and gasping for air. The second 3 minute interval wasn’t bad, as I was focused on how I could get through the final interval without passing out on the sidewalk. I could see the headlines: Fat girl collapses while running in small suburban neighborhood during heat wave – health officials respond with “well, duh!”

I started the final 5 minute run determined that nothing was going to stop me. It’s all in your head, I told myself, mind over matter. If I believed I could do it, then I’d do it. But then my breathing pattern got out of whack, and I was gasping for air. My knees started screaming at me again, and a small pain started in my side. I tried to distract myself with anything just to keep plodding along at my slow jogging pace. Look at the trees! Count the houses! Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, just keep swimming…

Unable to resist, I looked at my iPhone: 1:45 left to go, and I was out of distractions. At that point I chose a new tactic, mentally yelling at myself, You will not f*cking quit! You will not be a quitter! over and over.

After all, I’ve quit so many things in my life. When something got tough, I just quit. It was easier to drown my depression in a Big Mac than to face my issues. Sitting on the couch watching TV never made me sweat or feel sore. A Snickers bar wouldn’t tease me or call me a nerd. Got humiliated – yet again – by a boy I was crushing on at school? No prob – my friends Ben & Jerry were there to console me. Couldn’t keep up with others in a dance? Fake an injury and quietly excuse myself to the sidelines.

There are a lot of things I’m good at. Most of them involve my brain and not my muscles. Those things require little to no effort, and so I’ve never had to quit them. It’s probably a good thing that I was born smart or I likely would have quit at school as well.

Interpersonal relationships and physical activity, though? The first I’m no good with but continue to try at (with plenty of escapes to food or other comforts to combat anxiety and defeat), and the other I’ve failed at repeatedly. I’m not athletic. I always came in last for every activity during Field Day in elementary school. I tripped over my patrol flag in 5th grade and broke my arm. I never made it on any sports team in high school. I’m best left at a desk by myself with a computer.

But I finished that run. My beautiful and tortured mind won out and got me through to the 5 minute mark, despite the heat, despite my burning lungs, despite the hefty frame I forced my muscles to move. As I walked back home, I felt lightheaded and dizzy, my head just as numb as my body. I knew I should be proud of that moment, and I was, although my mind used its rare moment of triumph to remind me that I barely survived 5 minutes, whereas other people can run hours.

I’m not letting that dark little voice get the best of me. Some part of me awakened today and fought past the negativity generated by a lifetime of being told I’m not good enough and will never be good enough. I don’t want to quit this time.

I ran for 5 minutes straight today. Twice. 16 minutes total.

And I’m going to do it again.