Red-faced. Lead-filled legs. So thirsty. Two kilometres in and the end has never felt so far away.
And I’m pretty sure there’s nobody behind me — just my butt following me, which has always had a mind of its own.
Yes. That’s me training for my first organized run. Ever.
I will officially be the girl in the Cochrane Eagle T-shirt at the Footstock 10 km Trailblazers on the morning of June 14, sponsored by my employer.
My goal? Sixty minutes.
With the run less than two weeks away, I remain convinced that I am well-matched by my awkward-looking running partner — my four- short-legged Corgi, Angie, who begins to trail behind me by the 4 km-mark.
At the very least, it spurs laughter from my fellow dog owners walking at the off-leash to take in the spectacle.
After years of smart-assed quipping at my triathlete friends ‘why would you run? From what?’ I’ve gone ahead and done that thing I characteristically do — grumble my way through it and blame it on pride for not quitting.
Along my travels, as I continue to run into other, more seasoned runners, I am reminded of my need to re-invest in some new duds that at least give the false impression of gravity.
I am also reminded that time is quietly ticking away and my body might not be as forgiving when I set out on my fast-arriving 10 km journey as it is on my 5 km stints.
I’m no stranger to pushing my body to limits — but while I normally do this during my workouts at Lifestyles Fitness or from the confines of a heated room at Amaryllis, practicing hot yoga — running has always seemed like a way to play ‘one of these things just doesn’t belong’ and the answer being ‘me’.
Long have I been what I refer to as a comfortable jogger. I am well aware of the benefits of cardio and have spent many years in and out of the gym.
But I have always felt puzzled over how you cross that bridge of a prelude to weight training to an addictive activity that breeds a marathon runner.
I have interviewed ironmen, chatted with triathletes and jogged alongside friends who are far better runners than I (thanks for all your help, Brenda and Joanne). I even went through the play-by-play of ‘how to train yourself to run’ with my childhood friend, Breyan, an avid half-marathon runner, on the phone the other day and yes, I’m aware of and will likely employ the ‘ten and one’
With little time to spare and a pocketful of excuses tucked away for any given day, I guess all I can say is that I’m still in search of that ‘runner’s high’ and I’m hoping for that second wind around the 7th km.
I’m not vying for first place, only personal best — the very thing that drew me to running in the first place.
With much to learn, I’m relying on my stubborn nature and persistence to keep me in the game.
