Power Trip

It's been a minute since I shared an actual story here. The entire reason I initially started this blog. If you follow me on social media, which most of you reading this probably do because I know every single one of the readers LOL, then you'll know that I've been on an out of the blue running journey. When I was younger, I had exercise induced asthma. Literally laughing out loud just writing that. To this day, I honestly think that diagnosis just means I had a hard time breathing because I was a big girl. T god for my growth spurt and for the introduction of volleyball into my life, because otherwise I'd still probably be huge if not obese..... ANYWAYS, sorry about that slight tangent, you know me always going off on random nonsensical stuffs. Back to my "eXeRcIsE iNdUcEd aStHmA" LMAO, I absolutely HATED running. I would get tired, hate running the mile in PE, just like not a runner girly like some people were. It was never instinctual for me. Well recently, I've been getting into the habit of prioritizing doing some cardio everyday for general heart health, getting some sunlight in the mornings, all that jazz. So I started with walking a mile or so, then tacking on time because I actually had the time and was like let me just listen to an hour long podcast while I'm walking and make it a thing, so I started forming that habit. And then I realized... wtf, I can easily run this. So I started off with a jog. Very very very slow jog, like basically walking since I was scared I was gonna get so winded. The jog progressed to a run and somewhere in between the lines, James (my fiance) and I were able to watch the NYC marathon. It was inspiring to say the least. Like, 26.2 FREAKING MILES?! I watched one of my best friends do it a few years back from 4 different spots and I was tired just from taking the train to all the different viewing areas while squeezing through crowds, imagine actually running it? No way, not for me, not for sistah Ceej. But here we are now. I literally ran 10 miles a couple days ago and am in disbelief, like this is the epitome of imposter syndrome. Sistah Ceej is absolutely not a runner girly. Who said she could run more than a mile at a time?! Obviously, the run came with its trials and tribulations HAHAHA, but it's me. How could it not?

I woke up feeling groggy as hell. I had set my alarm for 7:45 am, trying to implement a better morning routine for 2024 since I've been slacking in that department for WAYYYY too long and look who turned off her alarm and started mindlessly scrolling, of course again, me. Text notifications, instagram, email, facebook, tiktok, the whole bit. I come to realize WTF, it's already like 9:30 am. I lazily roll out of bed and drag my feet as I head straight for the bathroom. A look in the mirror was so not the biz. What do you know, hair thats perfect (which means definitely did not get any good sleep), bloodshot eyes, and tote-sized eyebags. Reaaaaaalll cute. *Bzzzt *, I look down at my phone, a text from James saying "Weather not looking great the next few days, might wanna get your long run in today". AWWWW FUGGGG. I start pouting. Who am I kidding, trying to hit 10 miles today... most I ran so far was 8.47 and that was a fluke (obv, still with the imposter syndrome). I check the weather app and he was in fact, correct. Rain starting late afternoon today, that likely will turn to snow by night and then a combo of snow/rain for the rest of the weekend. "Today is the day", I whisper to myself as my eyebrows furrow, mouth pouts, head tilts back to face the ceiling, and eyes just straight up close while internally sobbing and dreading TEN FREAKING MILES. Snap out of it CJ, you can do this. I look in the mirror and point at myself. "DONT. BE. A. LITTLE. B****." That's the kind of hype woman I am to myself, mean and to the point, but hey it works... I curl my eyelashes to feel somewhat put together and eat a little something and get changed. Your typical non-runner attire for cold weather. Some under armour joggers, a longsleeve and an old hoodie, capped off with a nice ole Jimmy Fallon beanie. Perfecto, ten miles here I come. Airpods in with the playlist we used for the booze cruise at my best friends' bach party playing CHECK, key to get back in the house CHECK, shoes on CHECK, a look in the mirror before I kill over mid run CHECK, ooh add in some finger guns for funsies CHECK. I start tracking on my apple watch, and I'm off. To be frank, I feel like I think about soooo many random things while I'm running, like at first I hype myself up, then I'm like cruising, then I decide what I need to do the rest of the week, then I start thinking about random things.. and for TEN miles... I mean that's alot of time spent running. I decide to go up a busier avenue today just to feel more lively since, you know, I'm literally running on fumes. Come to find out, this decision is my demise. I think my train of thought has gone to coasting at this point, just enjoying music and being present with "She Knows" by Ne-Yo. I'm at a decent pace and see the blinking red hand a few hundred feet away from me. Can I make it? Yeah, pshhhh EASILY, I start pushing harder to beat the clock. I'm at the curb looking up and as I come down from a hard stride, the front of my foot catches that god damn uneven Brooklyn sidewalk. The top half of my body lunges forward with my legs trying to catch up, my arms unsure whether to flail up at the sides or attempt to catch myself in this most ungraceful fall of my life. It's like a heavy backpack has suddenly swung over to the front of my body and my legs are just playing catch up. My legs literally going as fast as they can move and have ever moved to keep my face from hitting the stripes of the crosswalk. I literally feel as though my chest is a foot parallel to the ground for 6-7 stomping attempts to stabilize my center of balance. Yes, OF COURSE there's a car waiting to turn right into the crosswalk, OF COURSE I picked the busiest street to try and beat the clock with, and OF COURSE there's a young couple watching me graze the ground with my chest hoping my face doesn't come next. But I somehow come out of the crosswalk upright, in a state of stability and still at jogging pace?!? I get my footing after a good 10 seconds of wild struggle and relive the experience just absolutely hysterically grinning. How tf do I not now have huge scratches on my face and strawberry knees and gravel in my hands?! How are my joints okay after the excessive pressure of my body just folding over itself in the attempt to keep myself vertical? I honestly have no clue. Am I superwoman? JK, never will think that in my life. I continue running with no knee pain, no twisted ankle and just straight up confused. How did I manage to do that? For a good minute, I continue laughing to/at myself, making absolutely zero eye contact with anyone for obvious reasons and shaking my head thinking about how ridiculous I looked in succeeding to pull out of that trip alive and well. I look down at my watch, 1.8 miles, what a F****** JOKE, I still have 8 + miles to go?

Safe to say, the rest of the run I was just grateful that my face hadn't touched the ground. It definitely was a run for the books and nothing like a little humor to make it even more memorable. I'm setting a goal to write one blog per week for 3 months. I'm telling you this to keep myself accountable. If I tell people I'm gonna do it, I better FREAKIN do it. As always, if you wanna talk story, share what you thought about this blog, just shoot the breeze and tell me a joke, or anykine whatevaz, hit me up at cjslifeemail@gmail.com . Hope you enjoyed this blog, new one comin' atcha next week. Love you, mean it. K SHOOOOOOOOTZ \m/