So, here's the 411 (I was obviously a teen in the 90's): I was a chubby little girl who read constantly and ate off-brand Cap'n Crunch by the truckload (I was a sneaky eater, so don't blame my parents) instead of getting involved in sports. My poor father tried to get me involved in several different team sports when I was a young lass...but I was slow and uncoordinated. Relegated to the softball outfield and sidelined at basketball games, I gave up hope of ever being athletic in any way. Honestly? I didn't really care that I wasn't a very physical person. My whimsical nature, good grades, and imagination took me far. Plus, I was on a constant sugar high.
Fast forward a few years, and...dun-dun-DUN: puberty happens. I quickly started caring that my propensity toward being "thick" prevented me from being popular with the hormone-charged boys (in retrospect, some of them were downright homely themselves) and from trading clothes with my tiny friends. I took the proverbial bull by its cellulite-ensconced horns and ventured into the fitness world.
To make a long story short (it really is an excruciatingly-long story), boys inspired me to get fit as a teenager. As a 30-something-year-old, boys are the cause of most of my stress and the reason I need to run to relieve it. Amazing how that came full-circle, huh?? I'm kidding, kind of(...not really). I now have two sons, and their antics provide a completely different kind of motivation than those of the "cute" teen boys.
After becoming a single mother of two kids in diapers, then raising them while working full-time, and just dealing with the general tedium and rigors of life as a human being, I felt compelled to seek a more significant form of physical catharsis than my haphazard "routine" of 30 minutes on the elliptical or treadmill several times per week and the occasional Jillian Michaels DVD (dude..that lady is HARSH).
Last fall, I committed to running a 10-mile race. I wasn't at all confident that I could succeed in accomplishing this goal, but I paid my race fees and bought some new running shoes like I was a serious contender. I found a training program on Hal Higdon's (running guru) website per the advice of several runners I'd consulted, and I hit the ground...wait for it...RUNNING. Sorry, that was terrible. It ain't easy being this cheesy, folks.
With a surprisingly-fun and relatively-easy ten miles in my rear view mirror, I found a half marathon to run a few months later. That experience was a bit more challenging because of bitter cold and windy weather and seemingly-mountainous terrain. But I did finish the race without walking at all, and the sense of accomplishment was incomparable. Okay, that's an exaggeration--I've had two children, after all, and that's no walk in the park. Until I run for 30 hours straight while in excruciating pain, with a class full of nursing students watching, and create another lifeform at the finish line, I shan't be so bold or irreverent as to compare a race to giving birth.
I digress.
Spurred on by the sense that I've finally found something athletic that I can do, I have recently signed up for my first marathon, which will be held in October of 2014. This blog will serve as a training journal of sorts. I promise to entertain, if not inspire--but my hope is to do both. :) So pull up a chair (be careful, you might trip over it if you're anything like me), relax, and join me on this journey as I trod (however clumsily) along to the epic (likely epic only to me) climax of 26.2 miles.
Gotta run (probably into something),
Awkward Girl
No comments:
Post a Comment