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| WARRIOR DASH, 2011 (Photo courtesy of Kim W.) |
It all started last year when I was first introduced to the idea of running the Warrior Dash - a 5k mud run with obstacles reminiscent of boot camp, which people apparently volunteer to do for fun. Oddly enough, the novelty of the obstacles is what won me over, the running part just a necessary evil to get to the sheer joy of sliding down fireman poles, doing high-knees through a field of tires, and belly crawling through a puddle of mud beneath barbed wire. It didn't take much to convince my best friend, her hubby, and brother to join in on the madness, despite the hard fact that, to 75 percent of the group, fitness is more of an academic theory usually bandied about during living room couch discussions of the state of the average American's health (while we're kicking back Mountain Dews and digging into chips and salsa), rather than a practical pursuit.
But that was okay, we had seven months to train. Climbing the never-ending stairs to the top of Splash Mountain at Disneyland was no longer a time to laze about the railings and watch other people get drenched, it was Warrior Dash Training! Although we meant well, those seven months quickly dwindled down to five months, then three months, and suddenly the Dash was only 4 weeks away and I could barely get through a mile without needing to stop for a (ten minute) breather. The Dash, although awesome, was a bit of a wake up call. There was a time in life when I could run a 6 and a half minute mile. Sure, I was twelve years old and didn't weigh more than 90 pounds . . . soaking wet . . . with rocks in my pockets (to quote my Dad), but the idea holds: I used to be in shape and now I can't hardly get through running half a mile without huffing and puffing to a degree that could put even the Big Bad Wolf out of work.
I've always been adverse to running. During my brief experiences playing soccer in elementary school, I learned very quickly that the game was much more enjoyable when played from the relatively running-free position of goalie (in fact, I recall games where I sat crossed legged and watched the proceedings with detached interest while making daisy-chains). After soccer, I got smart and went out for softball (very short sprints and lots of bench sitting), then got even smarter, volleyball (it's practically like Foosball for how little you have to run). There were a few seasons of track where I ran the 200 meter, but long jump and high jump soon caught me eye and it was all over from there.
My lengthy history of anti-running agendas have now run their course. I recall a conversation with my best friend around the time of the Dash where we decided that we wanted to be the kind of people who do things like the Dash - outdoorsy, fitness-like activities (granola optional) - to become one of Those People.
You know Those People - the people who get up at 6:00 am and run three miles before you even have your first bowl of Lucky Charms. The people who spend more money on their mountain bikes than they do on their car and who you can never get a hold of because they're in Yosemite, again, and cell signal is patchy. Yes, Those People - the people I used to openly tease for being absolutely crazy and certainly not human for finding pleasure in running for three hours in a row; the type of people I explain I could never be like because sleeping in to 10:00 am is not only a luxury, but a requirement for my existence, but who I secretly envy deep inside for being so much healthier and productive than I am.
Bringing secret shame to the surface is the best reason to make a change. I want to be a runner! There, I've said it, it's out there, I can't take it back. I want to run and I want to like it and what better way to get there than to run a half marathon. Not so long ago, the idea of running for 13 miles straight was my idea of torture, but now I see it as my freedom. I have an opportunity to make a change in my life, to introduce healthy habits that will set the stage for the next decade of my life, and beyond, and ultimately liberate myself from destructive habits and negative thoughts.
This past week was my first true week of training and although I can't say I love running, yet, I can't say I hate it either. I do love that my calf muscles are becoming more apparent. I do not like that they make putting on my skinny jeans that much more difficult (seriously, it's my calves that are keeping me from wearing them?!). It's only been a week, but I can feel the progress, and what's more, I can see it.
I can see the finish line, seventh months and thirteen miles ahead of me, and I can hear the crowd, cheering me on and I am motivated. I can't wait!
In an effort not to lose steam or stride, I convinced a few of my coworkers to run the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure with me at the end of March. I figure having a couple 5ks on deck will be good practice between now and the Disneyland Half Marathon. Plus, running to raise money and awareness for breast cancer is something I can totally be on board with. In fact, my coworkers and I are trying to raise $500 for the foundation - check out our team page for more information about donating to the Susan G. Komen Foundation. (Yes, I named our team They Who Shall Not Be Named because we are a small bunch of indecisive people and if I can fit in a Harry Potter reference, I will, and will take ten points for Gryffindor for my trouble.) Please do not feel obligated to donate, but if you would like to make a donation, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity and support.
Happy trails!
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Goal Tracking:
Books Read: 3/100 (I've so far picked rather lengthy titles)
Miles Run Last Week: 5.05
Average Pace: 16:55 min/mile
Words Written: 395, but also created detailed outline for Act I
