Run? Are You Kidding Me?

If you know me and know my love of sports, know I'm fairly active, and know I played sports as a kid, you might think I'm a runner. I assure you, that couldn't be farther from the truth!

I try to save the feeling "hate" for hate-worthy things like cancer and Alzheimer's, but I VERY MUCH DISLIKE running.  

I briefly played basketball as a kid, junior pro and what not, but the year my junior high girls team went full court, that's the year I gave up basketball.  Too.  Much.  Running.

I was active.  I played fast-pitch softball for years, summer ball and high school ball, and I loved it.  But running?  Blech.  On the rare occasion that our coach made us run, I was a puker.  I'd have to stop and throw up.  My side hurts so bad it feels like a machete has been shoved under my rib cage.  Running the bases?  I almost literally groaned when I hit a triple. Too far to run!  I've been envious for years of my brother and dad who both love to run.  But kids, I am not a runner.

This year I turned 50.  My life isn't where I had planned it to be.  Lots of shattered dreams, hopes, plans.  Birthdays have never meant much to me, but this year I wanted to do something to mark the year.  Last year I did a foolish thing and declared I was going to do a half marathon in 2014.  If only I hadn't said it out loud!  Why would I want to do something I not only don't like, but I won't be any good at?!  David Landrith, I blame you.  Ever since you ran that marathon, I've been thinking about it.

I'm ridiculously competitive.  As a kid, I confess I never did anything that I couldn't be really good at.  Yeah, I'm still that kid.  I can't stand to lose.  So why would I want to run? I can't win!

2014 rolled in, and that ridiculous half marathon declaration kept haunting me.  In typical Kelly fashion, I procrastinated.  I missed the first marathon opportunity, the Country Music Marathon. Thankfully there was another one, the Women's Half Marathon benefiting breast cancer, so I still had hope to get it done.  But I kept putting it off.  I didn't sign up at the last possible minute, but nearly.

Two or three weeks ago I told my family about my intentions and my niece asked me, "Have you trained?"  Uhhhhhh. No?  I didn't train.  I was going to walk it.  Who needs to train to walk?  I'm a walking MACHINE!  But Emily, you got me thinking.  Thank you for that challenging question.

I finally got around to reading my confirmation email for the race.  I can walk this thing, right?  Yes, you can walk it.  But.  Under FAQs, I read this statement.  "All participants MUST complete the course within the course time limit."  Wait, what???  It went on to tell me I would be picked up by a TAIL VEHICLE if I went too slow.  Are you kidding me?  I did the math - clearly I was going to have to RUN a lot of this race if I was going to finish!  Uh oh.  I think I should have trained.

I decided I would rather die than be picked up by the TAIL VEHICLE (yes, ridiculously dramatic, that's me).  And if I finished close to last?  Ha!  Have I mentioned that I'm competitive?  Clearly I will never win a race, ever.  I don't run.  But I decided I needed to finish as close to three hours as I possibly could. I decided under 3:15 was my personal mark to beat. 

I set three other goals.  Yesterday, at 7am, I started my first race, ever.  By God's grace...

• I didn't throw up.
• I didn't get picked up by the dreaded trail car.
• I didn't quit.

And I finished in 3:05.