Like Shakira, My Hips Don't Lie

I'm probably a bit premature in getting excited or celebrating, but I was able to run on the treadmill for the whole of this week. Why is this a big deal? Because I haven't been able to run more than a day on a treadmill, or even more than a mile outside, in more than a year. I've been relegated to the elliptical because of my hips. My poor arthritic hips.

I gained quite a bit of weight before moving to LA (like 30 pounds from my lowest  to what I stepped foot into town carrying). I'm sure the extra lbs didn't help in the crusade, but my hips were in agony for months. Even without the running or constant working out, I would be stiff in the mornings and near tears at night. Not fun. And if I actually pounded the treadmill, the pain was worse.

So I gave up the running. Which was sad, because --and I'll be the first to admit this was a shock to me--I actually like running. Used to HATE it. "I only run when chased," I'd say. Frequently. Without being prompted for my opinion. But at the beginning of the great weight drop, I walked outside and then when I needed a challenge, I started jogging. I really loved being outside in the mornings and having the time to zone out and think about things. I even miss having to bundle up because I was freezing cold, and then getting home and sweating in 10 degree weather.

And while I can't run outside here in the mornings (I mean, I do live in LA. It's a nice neighborhood, but I'm not crazy), I can do the treadmill. At least now. And so until my hips kick in (or they don't), I am back to pounding the treadmill. To be honest, the past few mornings, stepping off and having that weird floaty feeling that's a combination of the endorphin rush and the adjustment to walking on a stable surface has been a highlight of my day.

Never thought I'd think that 5 years ago.