Run...for Fun?

My mother runs an obscene amount. If her body and schedule would allow it, I'm pretty sure she'd run at least 10 miles a day. She is also 5'3" and blonde. Clearly, I didn't get a whole lot of her genes. Once I open my mouth and wave my hands around, however, it's obvious that I am my mother's daughter. People say our mannerisms and inflections are undeniably familial.

But back to the running thing. My relationship with running is simple: I don't do it. Sometimes I like to blame my mom for this- not because she could've controlled my inheritance of her cardio addiction, rather because I never joined a sports team as a result of a punishment. Basically, I cocked an attitude just a few days before volleyball tryouts in 8th grade, so my mom said, "That's it! You're not trying out for volleyball!" The punishment was definitely severe, considering how I'd practiced bumps and hits with my older brother (Varsity volleyball player) for weeks leading up to the try out. But I also think that between my horseback riding, community theatre, and private vocal lessons, my mom just didn't want to drive me to yet another extracurricular activity. Either way, I never got in the habit of working out in a gym or going on runs because I was never part of an athletic team. Don't worry, Mom, you're still the best.

When I say that "I don't do it," I don't mean that I've never done it. Obviously, I had to run the mile every year in gym class. In 5th grade, I was really smart and thought that the higher your time, the better you were (aren't higher/bigger numbers always better?). I was the BEST in the class. Five years later, I ran an 8:30 mile in sophomore P.E. and decided that there was no point in imagining I'd ever do much better. So I stopped taking P.E. and instead practiced jazz square combinations in the auditorium anytime I felt the need for physical activity.

Mom and me after the 2007 Alumni 5K

My sophomore year of college, I tried to become "a runner" in order to prepare for my first pageant. I'm not sure what being "a runner" denotes, but I decided it meant that you run in races once in a while and always look athletically cute in white sneakers and colorful shorts. I finished the CNU Alumni 5K in October 2007, but found that my feet hated this idea of suddenly pounding against pavement for 30 minutes a day. Thirty minutes doesn't sound like much, I know, but keep in mind that the popular girl told me that I run slower than her pet hamster when I was 10. Just getting me to run around the block was pulling teeth after that low blow. Anyways, the arches of my feet really suffered from consistent running for three months. On the worst day, I couldn't even walk because the pain was too much to bear (and I have a normal-to-high tolerance for pain). From that point forward, the elliptical became my best friend.

This past Christmas, Santa brought me new running shoes with special arch support. I haven't run regularly since 2007, but in the past few weeks have decided to see if the new shoes could bring out that recessive running gene that must be hiding in me somewhere. Surprisingly, my arches have been holding up quite nicely. I started with my normal 30 minutes on the elliptical, followed by a mile on the treadmill to test how my feet would react. A few weeks of consistent running have gone smoothly, so today I forwent the elliptical entirely in order to run on the treadmill for a full 45 minutes! I've also been running around the reservoir in Central Park. Three miles is a breeze, so for the first time ever, I think I can start training for a half marathon without having to resort back to the elliptical due to feet complications! Or at least a 10K...

So, does this mean I'm now a "runner"? No. Maybe I can formerly knight myself with that title if I keep running regularly for at least a year. For now, I'm just the girl who is REALLY excited that she can run for an extended period of time without wanting to die! I am also confident that I can now outrun a pet hamster.