I had no idea what "running" meant until yesterday....

Guess I've been fooling myself that the walk-jog thing I was doing was really great exercise. Ok, it's exercise. It really is. But, I've seen the other side...

Wait for it...

Jon's been on leave this week. He has leave (that's what the Army calls vacation days) that he has to use or he'll lose it, so he decided to take this week. The guy deserves it - the Army works him to death, he's gone long hours or travelling a LOT, and let's face it, life in the Army can be stressful.

Since we live on a small island in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean, he can't really "vacation" or take a roadtrip anywhere. But, that doesn't matter. The boy is SCUBA-certified, so he's taken some dives this week. And.........we've been bonding.

(Get your minds out of the gutters...this is a G-rated blog). By bonding, I mean hanging out together. Laughing. Picking up the kids from school together. Making trips to the store while the kids are in school.

Just spending time together. With 2 full-time jobs and 3 full-time kids, and no Grandmas or Aunties here to watch them so we can get away for a night or 2 alone, "spending time together" is a very precious commodity.

One of our bonding activities was jogging. Yesterday we decided to run together. I should have known this would be more difficult than I expected. After all, Jon has been a runner for 25 years. I've been a runner (and I use that term loosely) for about 25 minutes.

We started out strong. I was running a 14-minute mile. (That's lightning fast for me - I average closer to 16 or 17-minute miles.) I maintained that for the first 2 miles.

Then I thought I might die. It was HARD! I managed another 1.5 miles, with a couple of 100-ft walks hidden in when I really felt like I couldn't do it anymore.

To Jon's amazing credit, he did not get frustrated when I complained, slowed down, or stopped talking to him (because I needed to zone-out in order to make it home in one piece.) Instead, he gently nudged me - "Come On! You can do it! You're doing great! Really great!"

My husband is an amazing rock star. I felt the pride he had for me yesterday, and it brought me to tears. We are closer than we've ever been, and I am so incredibly grateful. (Believe me, I thank God for it everyday.)

But, when we got home, 1 hour and 7 minutes (and 4 1/2 miles total) later, my clothes were soaked. I mean so wet that they clung to my back. My legs felt like Jell-O. My head was spinning a little.

And today, my thighs BURN when I walk down the stairs.

I could complain, but I haven't. Because:

1. Jon's pride made me proud of myself.
2. I did it. I didn't walk, I RAN! (Ok, it was a slow jog here and there, but Jon said I maintained a runner's stride throughout, which was his goal for me.)
3. It's been a LONG time since I've felt that proud of myself.

Thank you Jon, for your support. I love you so much. I hope that I'll get better and we can really run together. I'll try really hard to get there!