I have wanted to be a runner for a long time. I have been told many times that this is an odd goal or that whoever I happen to be talking to would hate to run as much as I would in my dreams. For a while this is made me feel like a weirdo. I would only run if I though little to no people could see me try. It didn't start this way, though. My desire to be a runner started at a young age.
At some point when I was in elementary school, I was convinced that I would be a great long distance runner. I joined the track team and ran the 400m run (a long run for a 10 or 11 year old). I came in last place and struggled to breathe while running. I still thought I could run.
In sixth grade I joined the cross country team with my older brother who was on the team the year before. I think our races were about 2K, but I am not sure. I just know they were significantly shorter than the high school teams. We ran the race course at our school everyday after school. I was always in last place (my brother didn't do much better). We just kept going every day and participated in each race. Our parents were proud of us no matter how bad we did. I remember finishing a race in tear because I could barely breathe, and a girl told me that I looked like I was showing off because I could only cry if I was finishing first. I took this to heart and wouldn't let myself cry until I was in the car from this point on. We didn't sign up for cross country the next year because we were getting ready to move, and they did not have school sponsored sports in middle school at our new school.
Let's fast forward many years later. My brother was gone. I had gone through a lot of crap. Things were finally calming down, and my new husband and I decided to follow this dream together (he had been a runner in high school and was ready to help me a bit). We signed up for a 5K and started training. I got shin splints and didn't get serious about my training when they healed. When we went to the 5K, he ran the entire thing. I ran just a little bit of it and blamed the heat (it was August). We did not really run again for almost 5 years.
This year, a group of ladies from church decided they wanted to do the Bolder Boulder (a 10K). When I saw that this was the 40th anniversary of the race, I decided that the race and me both turning 40 was a sign that this is my year to become a runner like that little girl wanted to do in the 80's. I started training by downloading an app and meeting with the group once a week. I have been working hard most weeks for the last several months only taking breaks for family deaths and a calf injury. The race is in 3 days. I do not know if I am ready, but I do know I feel more like a runner than I ever have. I will bring with me the memories of my brother and I joining that team together when he was in seventh grade and I was in sixth grade. I will do my best to make my big brother proud at this race as well as the others I have signed up for this summer.
