My new walk/jog routine is chipping away at my all-or-nothing mentality

and other musings on exercise, aging, and freeing ourselves from lifelong shackles

Apologies I haven’t written in a while. I’m trying to be intuitive about my writing (more on intuitiveness below!) and haven’t felt the spark until this topic!

Note: I am moving all bookclub logistics/conversations to WhatsApp. If you are a paid member, head over to the Bookclub tab to find the invite link! We’ll have so much more functionality there and it’s wayyyy easier. Head there to our group so we can pick the September book soon. Also note: there is a Pen Pals channel in there so take a look 👀

---

I started jogging a few months ago. Well really, I’ve started and stopped jogging a few times

but this time I feel committed to it in a different way. It’s all been part of my journey to reclaim (or more realistically, claim for the first time) my relationship to exercise and moving my body consistently.

I downloaded the Strava exercise app in June and I write a comment after each jog to share how I felt it went, forcing myself to take a beat and reflect on the accomplishment. I went through those Strava notes out of curiosity, and I noticed something pretty jarring immediately.

Take a look at some of the last jogs I’d inputted in June and July:

I keep writing, “I had to stop.” I had to. I can hear the frustration and disappointment in my voice. It felt like even as I was enjoying the act of jogging and wasn’t jogging for any particular reason (no race, no plan, just vibes), I was still setting some bar for myself (run without stopping for as long as you can) and then routinely feeling like I was falling short when I, inevitably (as we all do), stopped.

---

After a month or so of those kinds of jogs, of being both proud that I went out at all but then also feeling the almost routine tinge of disappointment that I had to take breaks, I pivoted my strategy. Well…I made a strategy for the first time.

What if I purposefully baked walking into the jogging, so it wasn’t me “giving up,” but rather “me following a plan.” I make it sound like I’m the person who invented walk/jogging LOL I don’t mean to sound so dramatic, but I don’t think I ever considered walking to be a “legit” thing I could do in these jogs. We’ll get into that rigidity in a sec.

The Strava comment where I invent walk/jogging lol

---

First, let me explain why the jogging feels so momentous to me—and also so tenuous.

For most of my childhood, teenage years, through college, and well into my 20s, the story I told myself was that I was not athletic, that I didn’t like movement, that I was lazy. It was probably in some part because I compared myself to my preternaturally athletic sister (although for sure, I can’t put all the blame on her I fear)— star pitcher in a league of mostly boys, a top basketball player in a high school team that literally [under the table] recruited players to the team, who would beat me in every tennis game we played, even as I was the one who’d taken the lessons— I SWEAR I AM NOT BITTER). I was never forced into sports, which I feel complicated feelings about because a) thankfully I don’t have trauma from that, but also, b) how might I be different if I had more familiarity with movement from an earlier age? I

t’s impossible for me to say exactly why I never liked exercise, but I think it comes down to, I just didn’t really do it all that much. At least not in any way that made it feel *fun.* All of these things created a general lack of interest in and comfort with exercise, competition, and physicality. And ultimately, codified a pretty dramatic story in my head about what exercise meant to me (read: something other people did, devoid of any fun, entirely forced, etc etc)

What started as a casual “ewwww exercise, I’m lazy!” stream of joking when I was younger became a much more visceral avoidance of exercise as I aged. It got to the point in my mid 20s where, when people would tell me they did this or that class (SoulCycle was all the rage then), I would feel resentment or bitterness. You know when you know you have to do something but you really don’t want to/generally avoid it, so when you hear about people doing it, you feel internal rage or whatever else? Is that a thing? (wow I’ve never really talked about this before, and writing it down is WILD to see).

Clearly, I had some issues around exercise.

I knew this was not sustainable. Of course I knew I needed to move my body, that it was good for me but also that I could find it interesting. I had found different things interesting over the years (the aforementioned tennis lessons, Zumba classes, dancehall and hip hop classes etc.) but I hadn’t found anything that stuck, that would push past my inner monologue that said “you don’t want to do this.”

Over the last few years in my 30s, I have REALLY tried to commit to exercise in a new way. I’ve been focusing on consistency and just moving my body, as opposed to any sort of specific thing I want to look like or become or build. Create a habit of moving because I want to be outside, and have better mobility, and sleep better, and protect my body as I age. I feel full peace and clarity that this is what I want and need now, even if I might never *love* it (I mean who knows…but all I know is I have yet to actively crave exercising haha!) It’s a journey to say the least but generally, it feels really different now.

---

So back to the present: my jogging beginnings.

One Spring day this year, I feel antsy. I can’t remember the exact context but at 2pm one afternoon, I say hm I really want to try to jog.

I had started/stopped a couch to 5k training last year, and wanted to see how long I could jog just because. I go to the park and get up to I think 12 minutes without stopping. I was SHOCKED. I was intrigued about what that meant. I wanted to do it again.

So I start to just slowly keep jogging when I feel like it. And I notice that I’m wanting to go once or twice a week. Running about a 12:30-13 min mile and I don’t care at all about timing or distance; I’m just trying to see how long I can run without stopping, how far I can push my body and mind.

I end up running 2 miles a handful of times, and a full 5k three different times. A miraculous accomplishment. And yet, something about that progress feels unstable to me. It feels like I’m one jog away from knocking down all that momentum. I don’t feel like a confident runner, I don’t feel like my progress in running is cemented either in my body or my brain. It feels as if one “bad jog” could topple the whole thing down. It was— I realize now—an incredibly powerful binary I’d created.

When I come back this June from my 5 week trip, I try to jog again and I just can’t seem to get back into the swing of it. I keep stopping when I’m running. I tell myself, ok you’re just out of practice. But I keep stopping each time I jog (the Strava notes from above).

---

I read this great article that says, in fact, using the walk/jog training method has all these positive benefits:

Walk breaks

• Speed you up: an average of 7 minutes faster in a 13.1-mile race when non-stop runners shift to the correct Run Walk Run ratio – and more than 13 minutes faster in the marathon

• Give you control over the way you feel during and after

• Erase fatigue

• Push back your wall of exhaustion or soreness

• Allow for endorphins to collect during each walk break

• Break up the distance into manageable units

• Speed recovery

• Reduce the chance of aches, pains, and injury

• Allow older or heavier runners to recover fast and feel as good as in the younger (slimmer) days

• Activate the frontal lobe – maintaining your control over attitude and motivation

I’m sorry WHAT.

Exercise is one of those lasting vestiges of my all-or-nothing self. I don’t have all that many of them these days; I’m working really hard to live in the gray area of virtually everything, but when it comes to movement, my brain turns off: if I can’t do a full hour of exercise, or a full routine or whatever, what’s the point of doing anything??! If I have to take walks, what’s the point of running at all? If I don’t go whatever arbitrary number of days-a-week I’ve set, I might as well scrap the whole thing!

So I start walk/jogging.

Or rather, first I ask Claude¹ (see footnote re: AI) to make a walk/jog plan that reflects my level. You can see the way I’d laid out the situation. I wanted to be very clear about the kind of pace and structure I was looking for.

The walk/jog training plan it gave me feels equal parts terrifying and intriguing.

I’ve now completed week 2 of this new training plan (see below for the whole plan, if you’re curious):

uhhh really not sure how I’m gonna be able to run 40 mins let alone 50 OR 60 MINUTES straight without stopping but we’ll see……

Here’s what’s been happening when I added walking in

After the first segment of jogging in the routine (like, the first 12 or 15 minute section), I AM DEAD. I’m convinced there is no way I can do more. I hate the entire conceit of running and I want to stop stop, not just take a break. I can’t believe I only get 1.5 or 2 minutes of a break. And then—— as per my watch timer, I begrudgingly start back running for the second segment…. and I’m…not as tired as when I ended the previous segment……… I think I assumed in my head that the energy I had to give was just one tank that would not replenish. But that’s not what’s happening. Or rather, the tank is lasting longer than I thought it could.

I definitely don’t want to insinuate I am somehow springing back up from the walking break and immediately hitting the same pace/energy level of the last jogging section. No, I’m definitely getting more tired and losing energy. But it’s not been as linear as I might’ve expected. Because of just a minute or two of walking, I’m able to—what feels like to me— essentially come back from the dead. I have more in me.

Now this may seem obvious to you (especially if you’re a runner or athletic person), like of course breaks help you recharge. But for me, each jog pushes my limits (physically yes, but as I wrote in my prompt to Claude, more mentally than anything else) so it’s been remarkable to notice that in fact, I can do more than I think I can.

I had assumed that walking would be the beginning of the end: I’d lose my mental tether to the jogging, my body would lose its pattern of running, my feet would feel heavy. But the opposite has seem to have happened. The walking is making me and my running noticeably stronger, immediately. Equally important, mentally, I know that every step I take in the jogging section is one step closer to being able to walk again which somehow makes the jogging section sliiiiightly more bearable (gotta have something to live for)

Slowing down is helping me ramp back up.

---

The lesson of slowing down to gain momentum is one I’ve been learning again and again as I age

I’m curiously noticing that setting bounds or constraints (like run for X amount of time, instead of just free run) has been making me feel more free in some ways. I know what to expect and now I can just go, knowing that the timer will go off at some point and I’ll get to walk again.

One example I think about often is: I assumed that taking a break from full-time work was for me to slow down to a screeching halt, to recharge, recover from burnout, and just exist with nothing to do. In fact, in many ways, it’s opened me up to move fast—faster than I was before I quit— just in different directions. I schedule calls with internet friends almost daily and we plan different events we want to do together, or I work on this Substack, or I apply to (and get!) a part-time job that I’m actually really excited about.

The slowing down of my working life was just for me to recalibrate: to look around, take stock of my energy, the direction my feet are headed, and then, to pick back up again. But this time, I’m moving faster² because I replenished my energy.

---

I asked my Instagram audience a few weeks back to fill in the prompt Aging is _______

after I posted this story

Anne Helen Petersen

wrote a few years ago about her own journey with exercise

The Quiet Glory of Aging into Athleticism

I think about this piece often, because she puts into words so much of what I tried to express here. She writes,

I’m certainly not getting faster, or winning anything, or even interested in knowing my pace save to keep to slow. I also know there’s some sort of time limit on how long I’ll be able to do any or all of this, and it makes every run precious — and helps foster an appreciation for my body, a care for it, that I’ve never had before. Maybe this genre of awe is akin to what some people feel after giving birth. For the first time, I’m treating it as the remarkable assemblage of systems that it is: deserving of rest, and respect, and nourishment.

The wildest thing is that when I do that, I can actually, ultimately, run longer — and feel so much better post-run than I ever have before. It’s an ongoing revelation, really, and it’s not an accident that this switch has happened at the same time that I’m actively working to unlearn the fatphobia and workism that defined so much of my adolescent and adult life.

It all has me reflecting on how many years I spent dreading and hating exercise. How if I’d had an understanding of the satisfaction I could get from moving my body, the ways I could prove how strong and resilient I am, and yes, that I could take as many breaks as I wanted, I think I might be in a different place today.

But I’m so grateful to be getting older and developing this relationship to my body now with such clarity. It’s coming from a place of deep curiosity and self-respect and also a commitment to creating sustainable patterns and habits. I love that no one is telling me to move, or shaming me for what I did or didn’t do. The people in my life are so encouraging (shoutout to that same athlete sister who inspires me every day with how consistently she moves her body!), but even more than that, I feel excited about what other things I can explore. Like pickleball (love), ping pong (love), line dancing (getting into it!)— so many things!

I want to share some of the responses that people wrote to the Aging is _____ post.

I think they are so profound and speak to the ways we are tearing down our all-or-nothing mentalities to find freedom? fun? resilience? ourselves?

I hope this leaves you with the same excitement about getting older, wiser, and stronger that I am experiencing these days.

Thanks so much for reading,

Miriam

1. An AI aside: I decided to test out Claude and have it create a hyper-specific plan for my level and goals. After some back and forth, it created a nice plan for me. That was the most extensive task I’ve asked of AI to date and it did deliver. As I mention in a previous piece, I’ve been dipping my toe ever slightly into AI, approaching it with cautious curiosity.

2. I want to be clear that “faster” does not mean ‘more productive’ or ‘more optimized’ because you know how I feel about those paradigms! It’s more like, with more excitement and drive to do things because I’m intrinsically lit up by them. It’s a feeling of abundance.