Several months ago after completing my first marathon, an old rival high school friend sent me a message via Facebook. His message was a nice congratulatory statement punctuated by the phrase, "I never knew you were a runner." I had to remind my old pal that the reason we met was because we both ran cross-country for our respective high schools. He was slightly embarrassed for not remembering, but it actually summed up my early running career rather nicely.
Sure, I ran in high school. But only because my friend Korie signed up for the team and needed a sidekick for comic relief.
Poor Coach Blankenship! It was all he could do to coax one to two miles out of us at weekly practice. I had bird legs, was notoriously clumsy (and have the knee scars to prove it), and carried/puffed on my inhaler during every single run. I ran a very slow three mile race, and I only lettered because you had to earn a letter as a senior. (I'm sorry, but even then I was against participation awards-letters should be earned, just like trophies!)
And to top it all off, apparently I ran in a pair of my mom's old tennis shoes!?!
In hindsight, it's really kind of humiliating.
Running is now one of my favorite things to do. I tend to obsess over my training schedule and revel in my mileage sums (however low they may be). Running is my time to think, huff and puff (minus the inhaler these days), refocus my energy, and reflect on my life.Coach (and Korie) would be proud.
While attempting to push Annika up a hill in the jogging stroller yesterday, she said, "Mommy, why are you breathing like a tiger?"
Apparently, the humiliating runs aren't competely over. . .
