In the beginning…

… so begins the book of Genesis.  “Genesis” is defined as the origin or formation of something.  Just as that awe-inspiring creation account didn’t happen overnight, the creation of a runner can be a long process.  For this particular runner, it was a REALLY long, slow, and sometimes very frustrating process.

      From my last entry, you know I was a slow, lumpy, not-quite-thirty year old determined to make a change.  It was also the time of year that those of us in northeast Ohio are feeling extra lethargic after spending an entire fall and winter cooped up inside, eating comfort foods, and watching our favorite sports team(s) break our hearts.  Usually it is May or even June before the thaw wears off and I shake myself out of a coma, only to realize I’m sadly out of shape for participating in the (extremely short) season for outdoor activities.

     So last year I was determined it would be different.  I would start getting in shape before summer rolled around.  And what does a slow, lumpy, not-quite-thirty year old who hates running do?  She signs up for a 5K, logically.

     A 5K, for those of you that can’t do random metric conversions in your head, is 3.1 miles.  Not exactly an epic distance, but for someone who couldn’t even jog a half mile, quite a daunting task.  I had no delusions of grandeur, there was no chance of finishing with any kind of impressive time.  I just wanted to be able to run the entire distance without walking.  Oh, and not die.

     I knew the only way to complete such a crazy stunt was to pre-register for race, forcing myself in to a deadline.  For those of you that don’t know me, follow-through is not always one of my best qualities.  (Just ask my husband about our half-painted bedroom … and the scrapbooking supplies strewn all over the basement … you get the picture.)  But once I clicked the send button on that online application, the fee was non-refundable.  If there’s anything I hate more than being out of shape, it’s wasting money!

     So I started by alternating short running spurts with longer walking segments.  Actually, I use the term “running” quite liberally.  It was more like a slightly faster than snail’s pace, lead-footed jog.  But the first time I plodded through one continuous mile, I was elated.  In retrospect, I think the fact that I was so bad at it was actually part of the appeal.  I enjoyed the challenge, and it made me work that much harder to improve.

     As the weeks passed, the running segments got longer and the walking got shorter.  I usually made it about two miles, although one particularly good day, I pushed it over three.

     And so as May 22 approached, I felt mildly prepared.   And a little bit scared.   I didn’t want to make a fool of myself, and I didn’t want to stand out as newbie.  (I even read articles online about how NOT to look like a rookie, which pretty much sounds exactly  like something a rookie would do!)

Before my first 5K - May 22, 2010

     Standing at the starting line and looking around at my fellow racers, I realized I had worried for nothing.  Although there were a few uber-toned road warriors, plenty were average joes, with a generous sprinkling of senior citizens, moms pushing strollers, and overweight middle-aged men squeezing in to twenty year old running shorts.  I felt much better.   (Little did I know those senior citizens would blow past me and never look back!)

     I managed to settle in to a steady pace and held it for the first two miles before I was really feeling it.  I was very tempted to walk, but I knew if I did I’d never be able to start running again.  So I just kept churning along.  Hot, sweaty, but determined not to quit, that last mile took every last bit of effort I could muster up.  Crossing the finish line was an amazing feeling, even if the picture my husband took makes it look like I’m about to collapse.

Approaching the finish ... looking exhausted but feeling great!

     And so, I finished my first 5K, with a time of 36:20, or about an average of a 12 minute mile.  I wasn’t in last place, in fact, I was right about in the middle of my age group.  And I didn’t die.  But I did take a three hour nap that afternoon, and I was sore for a few days.

     Later that week something crazy happened … I started looking for another race to sign up for.

I survived!

10 Miles

I ran ten miles this morning.  That’s right, ten.  T-E-N.  The big 1-0. 

I realize that a lot of people run a lot more miles than that.  But for me, it is a milestone.  A personal goal I have been working toward.  Such a nice round number.  We humans like round numbers, don’t we?

In fact, a round number is what got me started running last year.  It was late winter and I was staring at the calendar.  By the end of spring I would be thirty.  That’s right, thirty.  T-H-I-R-T-Y.  The big 3-0.

Age has never really bothered me before.  In fact, it wasn’t really the age itself that was bugging me then.  I don’t mind telling people my age, if they ask.  (Although they really shouldn’t, I mean, didn’t their parents teach them any manners?)  I’ve never felt compelled to fudge the numbers at all.  To me, it’s merely a mathematical equation.  Today’s date minus your birth date equals your age.  Black and white, no big deal.

But here I was, realizing my twenties were quickly dwindling.  And instead of looking back feeling like I had been in my prime for the past decade, I was feeling slow and squishy.  If that was my prime, was it even more downhill from here?  Yikes!

Don’t get me wrong, some great things happened in my twenties:  got married, did a lot of traveling, had two amazing kids, etc.  But physically, I wasn’t exactly on top of my game.  I had some spurts of exercise and eating well, but never managed to sustain it for more than a few months.  I tend to be a very “all or nothing” kind of person, which is not the most balanced approach to fitness.  And I knew I didn’t want to spend the next ten years in the same hot-and-cold cycle.

So, I decided to try something I had always hated before.  I started running.  Well, sort of.  Mostly a slow, painful jog interspersed with many long segments of walking.  (I loosely followed the “Couch to 5k” program, which I highly recommend for beginners.)  In order to stick with the program, I signed up for my first 5K race.  And the journey began …

More on that later, but for today, I’m going to bask in the glory of my 10 miles.  And take a nap.