HT Murray

I've been putting off writing this, but since my last post(whoops)was dripping negativity, I thought I'd share some goodness.

Once upon a time, I took up running. It went something like this.

"Hubby, I want running shoes for my birthday this year."

"Why?"

"Because I want to start running."

*laughs* "You'll never use them."

"Screw you. Yes, I will."

Okay, so it was four months later before I actually RAN in the running shoes I got for my birthday, but four months later is not never, so THERE. I actually put them on and putzed around my block sometime last October, back when a mile and a half seemed like a huge distance, and I couldn't run even that. I remember distinctly what I did last Thanksgiving, because I put my dressing in the oven and went out 'running.' My run that day was a whole whopping two miles, and I couldn't run more than five minutes at a time without walking. I don't know what made me keep trying, but I did, and that's why I have a race to report.

( My first ever 5k race under here. )

Short story. Ran my first 5k in very poor fashion. Finished in 28:30. Lived to run another day.

Here's the link I promised the charity this race benefited. Mercy Project. According to the race coordinator, the race raised over 7000 dollars, which would free about 7 of these children from slavery. That's something to be thankful for, for sure.

I've been kinda training in a vacuum for awhile, it seems. Getting in my miles, following the plan, and loving all the support and feedback from my friends (hugs for all) but there was still the little niggling doubt in my head as to whether I could run a race or would just crumble under the pressure-- whether I could apply the training to anything but more training. So, I took the plunge and entered a race, and yesterday I even ran it. (Believe me, I was always well aware that there was no real penalty for just not showing up. LOL.) And you know what? I liked it! Hey, Tracy!

It's still a little surreal in my head, not because there was anything special about how the run went, but because I'm not even sure I know who that person was who showed up on that racecourse. Not me, I'm sure. Some other crazy bubbly chick who stole my clothes... and my bib... and my hair. This is her story, not mine, despite use of the first person narration.

( Long story and pics behind the cut. )