About two years ago, a strange thing happened to me: I started running. It wasn’t a Forrest Gump non-stop, cross-country sort of run. It was a slow-paced 30-minute slight raise in heart rate. But it was just as epic.

 

For as long as I (and others who know me) can recall, I’ve hated running. One of my aunt’s favorite memories of my childhood is grabbing my five-year-old hand to run through part of the Disneyland theme park. “Sometimes it’s fun to run,” she coaxed me. “Well, sometimes it’s fun to walk,” I replied.

Running was something that I was forced to do as part of P.E., never something I chose to do. So two years ago, when I zeroed in on running as a tool that might be useful in my quest for weight loss, it was a very big deal. And I took it very slow. While, the controlled environment (only running at night or in the shade on a flat surface, alone, listening to my favorite podcasts) and sense of accomplishment have worked to make me feel better about the exercise, I don’t feel particularly good at it. To the average passerby, I’m a runner, but to me, I’m slow and heavy and I trudge more than I flit.

BHIP Day 23 was all about running in proper form. We practiced a series of techniques including kicking our backside, high knees, heel taps, pony hops, and leans that tuned us into our most efficient means of propelling forward in such a manner. We learned that keeping the heels up, or light, is the way to go.

 

At first, it’s not the most natural movement and I found it easier to settle back into my old, familiar form. However, we soon learned that each time the heel goes down, it’s as if you’re stopping the forward momentum and are forced to pull and push your legs to get the run going again. With each step. Trudge.

 

We were encouraged to remove our shoes and try out the proper run form in stocking feet. Amazingly, freed from the ties of my Saucony sneaker, my foot knew what to do. The heels went up, my chest leaned forward, and I flitted. Fun to run? Not yet. But fun to learn.

 

 

 

After a run technique warm-up on BHIP Day 24, we were instructed to take a seat on a medicine ball and rest. Paying attention to proper posture, of course. The brief moment of respite was used to congratulate us for essentially having reached the midpoint of the BHIP program and commend us for having stuck with it from the start.

While it doesn’t seem to be the case when jogging up a flight of Drake Stadium stairs or while completing burpee number three of 10, the first six weeks have flown by. Many reasons were offered for why we’ve made the choice to stay with the program. Personal motivation, accomplishment, and great instructors all made the list. In hindsight, I’d add a few more: commitment, variety, and great classmates.

 

Before BHIP, I had a regular fitness plan. I aimed for a daily workout of at least 30 minutes. For the most part, I achieved this. If an unplanned event popped up, I might switch up the timing of my workout or, on occasion, count taking household items to the garage as the day’s exercise. With BHIP, however, there’s no room for such adjustments. We committed to a time and are expected to show up and sign-in every weekday at that time. And once we get to class, there’s a routine planned to produce results. So it’s almost as simple as just showing up.

 

I say “almost as simple” because once we get there, there’s still work to be done. But one good thing about the work is that it’s usually exciting, with some new skill or activity every day. In general, being a bit of a planner, I find joy in knowing what’s coming next. I look up restaurant menus and narrow down my options before a night out and I use the street view tool when finding driving directions to a new location, so I know what the building looks like. However with BHIP, we don’t learn the WOD until we arrive to class. I’ve enjoyed this element of surprise. Will the workout be lunges or situps? Relays or circuits? Teams or individuals? Will it be for time or for reps? Who knows? But whatever it is, because I’m prevented from knowing it in advance, means that I’m prevented from dreading it all day leading up to class. 

 

The most pleasantly surprising element of the whole thing has been the people. I’m fortunate that my job allows interaction with my colleagues, as well as other campus partners. But my work doesn’t even begin to tap into the thousands of unique individuals employed here. My BHIP class includes staff and faculty and scientists and event planners working on and off of the central campus. We all find our own challenges with the exercises and we all support each other through those challenges even if it’s just by showing up. So, in addition to congratulations, a thank you is in order.

 

 

BHIP Day 25 had us put our new run technique in action. Up Bruin Walk. I still shudder thinking about it. Ten times up and down the stretch of the walk that leads from Drake Stadium up to the residence halls. We were meant to run as hard as we could on the way up, so that we only had enough energy left to walk down. Shudder.

 

So we meet again Bruin Walk. As an undergraduate here, that stretch of Bruin Walk and I go way back. Living for two years on campus, I made the daily trek from my residence hall to class. From the dining hall to club meetings. From the top of the hill to the JWC to workout. Up and down. Down and up. Usually in flip flops, sometimes with a friend, but always at my own slow pace. It’s the type of hill that friends climb in silence. Talking and energy are reserved for the way down, or once the top of the hill is cleared. So running Bruin Walk is just the sort of thing I’ve dreaded from the start of BHIP.

 

Arriving to my 6:15 p.m. class, the 5:15ers were just finishing up. One of them exclaimed, don’t worry, we did it. It was true. No matter how much the WOD would suck (and it totally did), the truth was that five classes before mine had done it. So I would do it too. And I totally did.

 

After all the running we’d done over the previous few days, my calves were in need of a little rest. The new (to me) run technique focuses on limiting the contact with the ground to the ball of the foot, staying off, or at least light, on the heels. For me, this equates to staying heavy on the calves. So the WOD for BHIP Day 26 was just what I needed. It was a circuit: 15 sumo deadlifts, 10 triceps dips, and seven overhead squats with dumbbells. Thankfully, all of these activities seemed to leave my calves alone.

 

Sumo deadlifts involve grabbing a barbell in a squat position and standing up in one motion, lifting the weight to about just below the hips and then setting it down. The triceps dips had us moving toward the bleachers, positioning our hands on a bench behind our backs and bending our elbows as we lowered ourselves close to the ground, supporting ourselves with the strength of our arms and the heels of our feet at the end of our straight (or bent legs) and then pushing back up to straight arms. Overhead squats were basically squats with the addition of dumbbells resting on the shoulders on the way down and then thrust overhead with straight arms on the way back up. We worked through this circuit five times for time.

 

At the start of BHIP, we were pretty much allowed to work with whatever weight we felt comfortable with. When working with medicine balls we’d gather around the ball bin and grab our choice of 10, 12, 16 or 20 pound variety. Not a tough choice. Lately, however, our instructors are voicing expectations. Beyond simply expecting us to complete the activities as introduced, they’re giving us weight goals for the activities that involve lifting and time goals for activities that involve running. “Women should be working toward lifting [this weight], men should be working toward [that weight].” Interesting. While before, thinking of myself as having weak upper body strength, I may have rushed to the bin to grab one of the few 10-pounders, now, when told I should be working toward a higher weight goal, I’m more likely to grab the higher weight. Sure, I can do the 10, but if I’m told that I can do the 16, I might as well give it a shot. Read all of Beth's posts here.