Last week I re-read the post I wrote about my first half marathon experience. When I nervously embarked on that journey I had NO idea that a year later I would be running my third half marathon. Funny how much can change in a year.
When I was growing up I hated running. I pretty much hated any physical activity that was strenuous in nature. I was always picked last in gym class, back in the days when PE teachers still let kids pick teams. I remember the team captains were always the most popular kids in class or the most athletic. The athletic ones would pick their athletic friends, the popular ones would pick their equally popular friends, and that pretty much left the rest of us non-athletic, nerdish kids to be left shuffling our feet, wondering which of us would suffer the utter humiliation of being picked dead last. It wasn't always me, but I usually came close. It sucked.
Running also sucked. I remember being made to run the 50-yard dash (was it 50?) or the mile around the track. I half ran, half walked, gasping for air, always with a stitch in my side and the burning desire to be somewhere else. Aspiring runner? Not me.
When I was in high school I signed up for regular PE class as a freshman. On my first day I entered the gym only to discover that the class was made up of a bunch of guys running around shooting hoops . . . and me. I panicked and pretended like I was sick, then went to my school counselor and begged to be put in another class. She put me in typing class for a year, which has really come in handy when I'm typing these blog posts. The following two years I made sure to sign up for gym classes like "modern dance" or "aerobic dance" to avoid having to play any sports. My biggest achievement was making up a dance with my friends to "Footloose" and performing it for the class. As a crowning touch we even recreated the final scene from the movie. I'd pay anything to see that on video.
In college I actually tried to run since I was convinced that intense physical activity would offset any junk food eating or beer drinking. I was wrong, of course. I remember running around campus and surrounding neighborhoods in my cross trainers (ugh!), baggy shorts and big t-shirts, my hair in a high floppy ponytail. I doubt I owned a real sports bra. No wonder I hated running - I was hot, my head hurt from my bouncy ponytail and I'm sure my knees and feet were not happy slapping the pavement in shoes that were most definitely NOT running shoes.
Over the years between college and my real adult life I would run here and there, but never in races and never farther than three miles. I didn't own my first pair of real running shoes until I was in my thirties. I never even considered running races because those were for real runners. I was just trying to keep from gaining twenty pounds.
When I look back at this history of attempted running, it amazes me that I've gotten to the place I am now. When I signed up for the first half marathon last year, I did it on a whim since a friend of mine had signed up too. It took me several days to recover from running that first half marathon. I remember feeling awful for several days and thinking I'd probably never do it again.
Never say never, right? I did it again in October with my sister - running for bratwurst and beer in Philly and then a third time a few weeks ago, running the same half marathon (Rock N Roll!) that I ran last year. I beat my time and had a faster recovery. In fact I went running three times the week after completing it. All this from the gangly, gawky girl who was picked last in PE class.
So what now? Funny you should ask. I'm about to embark on a new journey, one I said I'd never do. Be careful with that word "never" - once you say it, it's bound to come right back at you.
So here it is! In June I will start training for (drumroll . . . . . . )
THE MARINE CORPS MARATHON!!!!! That's right!! 26.2 miles!! I've lost my mind!!!
I'm not just running the Marine Corpse Marathon. I'm running it as a charity runner for the ALS Association in memory of my dad. I always said that if I ever ran a marathon I'd want to do it for a reason. This is the best reason I could think of. If my dad were here, he'd probably think I was crazy. But he liked crazy so I think he'd approve.
I'm really doing this. It's official. No turning back. This is what's next.
Check out my fundraising page!
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