Thursday, October 9, 2014

it all starts here...

 When I struggled through that first 2 mile run, a little over two years ago, I never dreamed that I'd be able to run a marathon. I mean, a 5k, sure... but I didn't think I'd ever really even want to run a marathon. I ran cross country my senior year of high school, but the longest I had run back then was 12 miles... once... on a training run. I was not even CLOSE to that kind of shape anymore. I mean, I had gained 60 lbs since then and had back surgery. I was not the athlete that I once was. I'd be happy if I could complete a 5k. So, I set out to do just that. Complete a 5k race.

 I've always been a competitive person. Perhaps overly competitive. I think it's in my blood. Not much you can do about that, right? I saw myself going down a road that I wasn't happy with. I was overweight, not eating well, and I felt like I was made of glass. I had tried playing in an softball league (baseball was always a passion of mine) and I found myself getting injured over and over again. I couldn't meet the standards of play that I had set for myself, and I knew I needed to do something about it. I have to be better than this.

 I was following the running exploits of my friend online. I saw that he was running longer and longer distances. 6 miles. 8 miles. 10 miles... I thought back to my 'glory days' of running cross country, and wondered just how much I enjoyed the running aspect, vs. the social.

 I remember my first run 'as an adult.' I downloaded the RunKeeper app onto my phone, and thought, "I'll start off easy. I should have no problem running 2 miles." I started the app and took off through Endicott. I felt great. I felt light on my feet, and that I could run for days. "I think this'll be a great way to get back into shape!", I thought. I looked at my phone to see how far I had gone, because it surely felt like at least I was at least a mile or so into the run. 0.35 miles. "Huh? Is this thing broken?" I watched the mileage for a moment, and no... it was working. It quickly became apparent that 2 miles was not going to be so easy. My legs started feeling heavy. I was breathing heavy, wanting to walk. 0.5. "Are you kidding me?" This continued to the mile mark, where I finally turned around, and headed back home.

 When I got back, I stopped the timer and I couldn't believe how long it took me. How foolish of me to think that I could just pick back up where I left off as a 17 year old. I was 32. I hadn't really run at all since then. There was no telling myself that, though. I needed to beat the 17 year old me. The following weekend, I went through some old newspaper clippings that my parents had saved from when I ran XC in high school. I found one where I was listed 5th on the team. 20:37 for a 5k. The challenge had been issued...

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