See, here's the thing. I hate to run. I loathe it, actually. You would think I would not mind it at all, seeing as I played soccer for years and years. Somehow, someway, I began to hate it. So much so, that when I work out, I avoid it at ALL COSTS. Interval sprints, cross training, you name it; I'll do it.
Just don't make me run.
And then I saw these.
And then I wanted to run a 5k.
What? Who? (Looks around nervously) Me? Ok, yes. I really want to run a race. I really wanted to run in the Camp Pendleton Mud Run, but it is already full when I went to register. So, I googled around, (since when did google become a verb?!) and found two similar races in Orange County in April. I'm signing up and running my little heart out! Best part about these races? They are MUD RUNS. As in....running in mud. Translation: you don't have to run the entire race! Just kidding. A little. Maybe. Through obstacle courses, over walls, you get the point. I think it'll be a lot of fun, and I'm hoping to get some friends to run with me or at least come out and cheer me on!
Why am I telling you all of this? Well, see, to RUN the race means I actually have to get out and RUN. My absolute favorite thing, remember? (See above. Pay attention!) In addition to my regular workouts, I added running. Oh, running. I started out small, charted a 5k course, walked it, ran intervals, walked some more, and wanted to call it a day. Well, on Monday, I busted out the old faithful tennis shoes (which have since been shunned since I fell in love with the shoes above) and started my walk. What I DIDN'T anticipate was running about 85% of the course flat out!! I came home, baffled, face red, legs on fire, just standing in the driveway. I brushed it off as a mere coincidence and went about my week.
It's Wednesday. Running Day again. Instead of walking, I started running, and running. I didn't stop! Well, ok. I stopped twice because my right calf muscle was KILLING me! Just a 30 second stretch, don't worry. I wasn't slacking. Same thing, I ran home, stopped, stretched in the driveway, and shook my head. I ran..let's say...93% of the course. What the heck?! While a 5k may seem insignificant to others, it's a milestone for me. After years of knee pain from my soccer addiction, I had two surgeries and years of physical therapy. I thought I'd never run again. And here I am, running my little heart out-pain free. Now that's a miracle.
But I still hate running.