This had to have been invented solely for the purpose of torture, right?
I could manage that much, right?
At least this day only came twice a year, I told myself.
© Image Source / Alamy Stock Photo
That little girl hating herself and everyone else on that gym class floor almost feels like a stranger.
Once you hit that high, magical things happen.
But youll only reach that place if you’re willing to push yourself.
He was trying to help, but it just made me feel like more of a failure than ever.
I was building an invisible cage around myself, but I didn’t see it that way.
One thing I never let go of, though, was the idea that I was not a runner.
I wasnt too bummed about that, because I figured I hated running anyway.
But a few weeks later, I couldn’t resist trying again.
So I hopped on one more time, and then Istayedonfor five straight miles.
Was this the mysterious runner’s high?
As it turns out, I don’t hate running.
The fresh air set me free.
I felt like I was flying.
I didn’t just not hate running, Ilovedit!
Still, I couldn’t call myself a runner.
That word was too loaded, I thought.
I was a random person who, by some fluke,likedto run.
Or something like that.
Just not a runner,definitelynot a runner.
Soon I was out jogging whenever I could.
I was a lifer.
A few months after my love affair began, I signed up for a 5k with some family members.
Me!Who knew I could be that girl?
“Early riser” was definitely one of the things on my not meant for me list.
So was “person who works out first thing in the morning.”
What else was I capable of?
I thought I didn’t have a lot of follow-through (untrue, as it turns out!).
But that’s the thing about surprising ourselves with what we can do.
There is nobody waiting to give me permission.
So I’ve decided I am a runner.
I am a runner no matter how many miles I run this month.
I am a runner no matter what my body looks like.
I am a runner no matter how long it takes me to get to the finish line.
And so are you.
Photo Credit: Image Source / Alamy
