I am not a runner.
At least I haven't been in quite awhile.
I used to run--rain, snow, or shine--frequently as a means to get good exercise.
I ran near my home in Alaska.
I ran around Provo when I was in college.
I even did my fair share of treadmill running--but only if I had my i-pod (or way back in the day, discman) handy with some great pump-you-up songs to make the run less monotonous.
Then during my third-ish or so year in college
my knee began to hurt when I ran.
Like really hurt.
Tight IT band? I dunno. But no amount of braces, wraps, massaging, muscle stripping, or rest seemed to make it go away.
The pain would always stop me within 2 miles of starting a run.
So, I gave up running.
And I became more of a biking, hiking, yoga-type chick.
And I love it, thank-you-very-much.
In fact, I am currently in the best shape I've been in for years and it feels great.
I feel strong. I feel toned. I feel flexible.
So why not sign up for the 5K our church was putting on this morning!?!
Why not run it with my psycho-fit husband who probably could have run the thing in 21 minutes!?!
Why not push our daughter along in the running stroller!?
And why even bother going for any sort of run before the race?
It had only been two years since I had run more than two steps.
So no biggie, right?
I figured I could run the thing in 27 minutes (or a 9 minute/mile pace) comfortably.
Because remember, I'm in pretty good shape!
before the race. Please ignore what looks a little like a "baby bump". It isn't.
Well, I discovered something today:
Running is sooooo much different than biking, or yoga, or a P90X workout.
It was just a tad bit harder than I had anticipated.
Let's just say that I did not run it in 27 minutes, and I was nowhere near "comfortable".
I had side cramps the whole way, my knee starting screaming at me right at mile 1.5 (do I sound like such a wimp, or what?), and I wanted to puke by the end of it.
Garrett complained much of the way about how slow I was going and he ended up taking off ahead of me like a rocket pushing that stroller with Kenners in it, squealing all the way in delight.
Talk about an ego booster.
The whole 3.2 miles was one big reminder of why I stopped running in the first place.
But you know what?
It was a blast!
Which sounds a little masochistic, but it really was the most fun morning!
Kenners was in heaven riding in her stroller filled with snacks, drinks, and a pretty view of the lake and trees.
It was a beautiful, sunny morning.
We saw a bunch of friends from church.
The music was great.
Breakfast was provided after the race.
I got to see my studly little nephew, Caden, cross the finish line after running the whole way.
My sister won the women's division with a time of 22:30 (um, she is psycho-fast).
And, you know, even though I didn't do anywhere near as well as my inflated fitness ego had me believe I would,
I guess I didn't do too bad considering I never ever run and did nothing whatsoever to prepare for this race.
....and after. Oh, the hotness!