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 The sun was peeking through before, but now the clouds were back. Everyone was talking, waiting and smiling as it was about to start. I glanced down and wriggled my toes in my very worn sneakers, which I've been reluctant to give up after all these years. They've graced the dirt paths in the far reaches of France and England, a time and place I hold dear. I smiled to myself as I looked at my mismatched ugly purple shorts and brown t-shirt, featuring my friend's now defunct band. This is what I wear, this is what I'm comfortable in. I glanced around at the beautiful sneakers, the appropriate shirts and gadgetry around arms. But I feel no different, we're all here together. Drops began to fall and everyone looked up. "It couldn't wait until after, huh?" said the man beside me. I laughed and said, "Maybe it'll just be a few drops." A brief pause, as the crowd subsided, ready. Then the horn blared and we were off. I ran my first 5K earlier this morning, and it was exhilarating. There were people around every bend, cheering you on, telling you "You're doing great! Keep going!" I wouldn't consider myself a serious runner, but I do love to run. Several of my friends jokingly tell me, "I only run when a bear is chasing me." Well, I guess I would, too. I tend to spend my weekends running--it soothes me, it lets me vent my frustration, it allows my brain to be blank, it lessens the pain of heartbreak, it makes me feel free. Often times I do my best thinking when I'm running (I prefer to cry in the shower and read while on the toilet). But I run because I can. I hear my feet hit the pavement (or trails) rhythmically and my breath quicken and slow; I feel my muscles ache and my lungs expand. I simply breathe and enjoy what is. And how wonderful it can be. So a little over a month ago, I decided to sign up for my first 5K. Aside from the simple joy of running, I felt having something to focus on would take my mind off of things. For the first time, I instilled some kind of "training" regimen for myself to follow. I revived my WalkJogRun account, planned routes and bought a $9 watch to keep my time (I don't have any fancy gadgetry). My weeknights were scattered small half-mile runs, probably my favorites because they were during the night when most were asleep, and it just felt like me and the world. But my Saturdays were my long runs, and I upped my distance until I hit the beloved three mile mark. I knew last weekend I could run three miles straight and that if I could do that plus the extra tenth on the actual day, I would be more than content. Meanwhile, I fell a little bit more in love with peanut butter. But don't think this "training" made running less fun. I actually felt the same, just silly old me with the same mismatched ugly purple shorts and brown t-shirt. When race day came, I felt good. I kept my pace and just enjoyed the scenery, really. It was a beautiful route, and the skies eventually cleared and the sun high-fived all of us again. I didn't expect two uphill climbs, but I took them in stride (literally) and enjoyed the unexpected challenge. Near the last stretch, a lady caught up with me. Breathless, she said, "I didn't think I could do this!" She was smiling so much, it made me smile even more. She told me, still breathless, how she usually powerwalks and that this was her first time running. As we rounded the last bend, she began to walk. Still smiling, she shook her head. I slowed down and said, "Come on! We're almost there!" She looked at me, smiled even more and began to run again. Then, in the sincerest and most grateful voice, she looked at me and said, "Thank you." In that small moment, I was rendered speechless. It was the most genuine "thank you" I had ever received from a stranger. All I could muster was a smile to match hers and a quiet but heartfelt, "You're welcome." We sprinted towards the finish, all smiles, together. Afterwards, I gave her a big hug and she said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" And I said, "You did it!" She smiled broadly and waved goodbye, as she joined her family. My feeling of finishing was overshadowed by hers, and I could not have been happier. I have never met someone who smiled so much, that even her voice was smiling. So I finished my first 5K, and just like I told myself, I was more than content. To celebrate my little feat, I lopped off a good chunk of my hair and had some tasty chocolate milk.
— 8 May 2010
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Hi, my name is Amy. Be well, and say hello!
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well done...i now feel even lazier than i did an hour ago...lol
Congratulations! Doing a 5k (run or walk) is on my bucket list for sure. And the kindness of strangers is always a profoundly magnificent thing to me.
i liked this post, amy. i used to hate running but now one of my life goals is to run a half marathon (not even full!). i plan to start training this summer, as soon as it stops raining.
Hooray you!! I wish running felt relaxing or enjoyable/rewarding in any other way for me but it's never really taken. Perhaps I'll try that Couch to 5k training plan again once we're in Hoboken and it's a prettier area to run in.