This is me in April of 2014. This was my first 5k.
I started walking. January 1st of 2014 I started walking on a treadmill in my basement. I walked 1 mile in 22 minutes. It was hard and I was worn out and winded. I was also embarrassed and empowered at the same time. I was tipping the scales at 335 pounds.
It only took a month and by February I could almost run a mile. It was more like a run-walk. I could do a mile in 16 minutes. I had been hiding in my basement working out. I didn’t want anyone to know because I was afraid. I thought if I gave up people would think less of me.
I told my friend Jason about me working out. He immediately signed me up for a 5k in April. I had two months to get ready. I was fucking scared.
Race day I felt like a little kid. I was nervous and excited. I wanted to see what I could do and at the same time there was a voice telling me I couldn’t. I got a shirt at the registration and had worn it to the race.
Jason was there to congratulate me when I crossed the finish line. I seriously could have cried. In the car he told me, “Good job Matty. Next time wait till you finish the race before you put the promo shirt on.” He said it gangsta as hell. Me and Jason still thug hard. We just earn our street cred differently now a days.