Run for it!

Sometimes while on the journey, you need to move faster than usual.


I ran my first 5K in October.  I had been told I'd be "walking most of it, running a little."  This was a big fat lie told to me by one of my sweet trainers.  Clearly she only looks sweet.  (Thanks, Bekah Lynn; for more than just making me run that day).   I ran for my mom, a cancer survivor. I ran for my brother, my hero, my inspiration.  At one point, I started to run for me, because I could.  My time was terrible but I finished.  Aside from college graduations I cannot recall a more proud moment in my life.

I ran my second 5K at the urging of two runners that I will never be able to keep up with, but I will try. It's hard to ignore your friends when they are being encouraging (Pete and Steve, you rule. Seriously).  Not only was my time much improved from October; I hit a personal best.  I'd like to point out that my time would have been much quicker had I not stopped around mile 2 to smell the pluff mud and appreciate my abilities and surroundings. (Breathing and gratitude are good for the soul)


I've been running intermittently since sometime in March.  A friend was looking for a serious running partner; I was looking for someone with enough patience to deal with me.  I wanted to learn to run, to at least attempt to be good at it.  Seemed like such an easy (and free) form of exercise. I was right about my partner needing patience, wrong about the free part.  Steve's first piece of advice to me was, "buy better shoes; the ones you're wearing are terrible."  Or something like that.

Running is a strange hobby/sport/exercise.  It makes you feel amazing, but it also makes you feel horrible.  You start a run full of vim and vigor, ready to take on the world and change your last name to Bolt.  Then the adrenaline wears off, your heart rate picks up, muscles start firing and damn it, it hurts! As you find a pace that works for you, the pain lessens and you start to feel really good.   I still feel a little bit like a 5-year old when I run, "look at me, look what I can do!"  I don't actually run like Phoebe in that episode of friends but I sometimes want to.  Pretty sure I'll be looking for a new running partner if I do. 


I often wonder what appeals to me most about running. Is it the actual run or the way I feel when it's over?   What I do like is that I have the ability to run.  I'm not the fastest and I don't have great form.  My shoes are ugly (but deliciously comfortable)  and my shorts don't always match my top.  Running  can turn a horrible day into fabulous with the first few steps.  I have nothing to prove when running even though I'm constantly in competition with myself.  As much as I want the run to be over (ask my partner how fun the last half mile is), when I do finish there is a part of me that says, "that's it.  We're done?"  The answer is no; there is always more. 


PS For the curious:  My October time was 44:10.  My June time is 28:07; 9:04 pace.