I would never in a million years have considered myself a runner in any stretch of the imagination. Maybe if I was being chased. Or that forced mile for volleyball in 90 degree weather. Sounds fun right?
Except then I got to thinking. Running is a sport I could do on my own, determine the time spent, and involved nothing other than a decent pair of shoes (and well, an inhaler).
I got this crazy idea in my head that for my 21st birthday, my present to myself would be running a 5k. Yeah... I pick cool presents, be jealous.
So I started working at it, slowly as to not discourage my "can't run a mile" self. Eventually after a few weeks of running at 7 am even with my struggles to want to stay in my toasty warm bed, I worked up to 2 miles and finally to 3.
Despite my 6th-8th grade P.E. teacher and the River Hill volleyball coach's efforts to remind me that I sucked at running, I managed to prove them wrong.
But more importantly, I proved myself right. And I can actually say that I enjoy running. For real (mom).
As in. I ran 3.1 miles.
And I lived to tell about it. Let's just say, this won't be the last.
The sub-40 degree temperatures yesterday morning along with wind & rain put a slight damper on the run as well as a hint of blue on my legs.
Jon came out for some moral support and much appreciated body-heat stealing as I waited for the race to start. It. was. freezing. Plus I can pretend that I have my own personal photographer :) -- pictures to come later maybe.
2 comments:
I'm glad you have joined the club. I, too, had a long history of hating running--the kind they made us do in P.E. But it is amazing what you can coax yourself into doing and then enjoying. I'm very proud of your accomplishment. Keep that inhaler handy.
You are absolutely amazing. I am SO impressed. From your distant. You go girl. cheerleader
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