Posted by: Mama Bear | March 10, 2009

running on empty

running

I hate to run.  Always have.

At least since the third grade, that is. 

That was when our P.E. teacher made us run sprints.  Each of us was paired with a classmate of similar ability, then lined up fastest to slowest.  She’d blow the whistle and we’d race.

I was always at the very end of the line, partnered with a chubby, shy kid named Felipe.  He was the only one I could beat.

That memory’s probably at the root of my hatred for running.  Or maybe it’s just that it doesn’t feel so good. 

Either way, I decided a few weeks ago that at 36, it was time to get past it.  I’ve started a running program and have set a goal to participate in a 5K on April 18. 

Right now, I can run a pitiful 1.5 miles.  Well, maybe it’s a stretch to describe it that way.  I actually walk a minute, then run a minute until I’ve reached that distance or the medics show up.

I’ve heard people say that their motivation for this sport is what they call a runner’s high.  Right now, I’m convinced that the only way I’m going to experience it is if I smoke pot first.

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Responses

  1. ah, the beloved couch to 5k which almost claimed my soul last spring….

    i’m convinced my only high came from asphyxiation experienced after the walk/run program.

    oh, but i know my newly un-pregnant ass will be back on the track with my ipod and the program just as soon as my lady bits are in generally good health. btw, running a 5k is something i would like to accomplish in the next year or so… i can’t imagine how rewarding it would be to accomplish it!

  2. Ugh, I think I’d rather die. Of course, I’m saying that while in the midst of some kind of respiratory ailment that is kicking my Inhaler-toting ass.

  3. What are you NUTS?

  4. I’m beginning to think I AM nuts.

    Tuesday, as I huffed and puffed past a group of construction workers, I was dumbstruck to hear them LAUGHING at me. Isn’t it a given that construction workers will always whistle no matter how awful you look?


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