For some reason, I just can’t let go of the idea of Becoming A Runner. I don’t know what it is; I remember as far back as middle school, running the dreaded mile around the track, and hating every minute of it. Yet beyond the hatred and feeling like I was going to die, I knew there was a part of me that could like running, if only I could get past that horrible part in the beginning.
So after trying couch to 5K plans a few times, always giving up, I recently signed up for an actual training class. A friend and I bought a daily deal for a six-week running course with a trainer (around Green Lake), and the first class was Thursday.
I have a love-hate relationship with starting new classes. I love hearing other people’s stories and introductions, but these things always involve some sort of “Share one interesting fact about yourself” or “Tell us what’s unique about you” thing, to which I really have no answer. This one was “Say your name, why you’re here, and something you’re good at.” Um, I got nothin’. I uncomfortably waffled for a bit with some awkward hand movements before saying “I’m good at… writing, I guess?” I’m awesome.
After that uncomfortable moment, though, things went smoothly. After the introductions and explanation of how things would work, we did a .5 mile walk. I learned long ago to walk very, very fast because my short little legs couldn’t otherwise keep up with all the tall people in my life, so I’m quick. My friend and I headed up the group but I figured that when we started running, I’d be dead last.
But. After the half-mile walk, we were told to do it again – running. As it turns out – and as I always forget – I’m incredibly competitive when with other people. On my own, I have no qualms about just giving up; in a group, I need to kick ass. I ran the entire half mile, which doesn’t sound like much to all the runners out there but is a huge deal to me. Not only did I run it, I was again at the front of the group.
(Sidenote: another girl was keeping pace with me so we started chatting. She’s trying to get a job in HR, which was small-worldy enough, but she’s also from Ohio. Not only is she from Ohio, she’s from a town right by where my mom grew up.)
After that half mile, I was sore the next day. It’s really been that long since I’ve run. The happy news is that while my legs were sore, it wasn’t my shins. If I can get through this and avoid shin splints, I will be one happy girl.
I’m excited to see where this goes. I would love if this could get me over the I-hate-running hump and into being able to run for exercise. And hopefully, proving to myself that I can do it will be good for me; I know that after being unable to come up with a single thing I’m good at, being able to run nonstop, fast, and well – even if only for half a mile – really made a difference.