For as long as I can remember, my father has been a long distance runner. I always marveled at his power to push himself to his limit, although I never saw myself doing the same.
This all changed when I began high school. I forced myself to join my school's cross country team in order to please my dad. The first year was pretty awful - my 5k times were extremely slow and I didn't care much for the sport or the girls involved. But my second year rolled around, and I was suddenly part of this secret club-like community. My teammates welcomed me with open arms and encouraged me to PR (personal record). This was motivation enough to improve, and I quickly worked my way up to the 7th spot on varsity (in high school cross country there are only 7 varsity members). I kept moving up and up (never past maybe the 5th spot, but still) and kept PRing. By my senior year, I had gone from a 28 minute 5k as a freshman to a 22:43. I was (and still am) very proud of myself.
But when college rolled around, I lost the structure of a team and began to quickly lose interest in running. This was probably due to the the freshman attitude of most colleges - parties and new friends, etc. It wasn't a great time for me. But around May of my first year (last May, actually), I stepped up and started running again. In June, I learned the importance of supplementing that exercise with healthy eating, and I quickly worked my way back into shape. At the end of summer, I signed up for a half marathon without really thinking about it, and joined a training team.
So here I am today. Preparing for my first half marathon. My longest run thus far has been 9 miles. Wish me luck!
No comments:
Post a Comment