See Mary Run.
There is a sorority sister of mine who I deem my very own mini me, JJ. Although not linked by DNA, we couldn’t be more alike. From our fashion sense to friendship devotion to stellar shopping skills. One particular thread that inevitably weaves in and out of our lives every single season is the topic of health: weight loss, weight gain, nutrition, diet, exercise. And, it never, ever gets old. We could yap about sweating and eating until our voice boxes are permanently damaged. Luckily vino or lattes are usually involved…keeping the larynx lubricated.
One thing that does differ inside our mutual blubber bubble though is running. She does, I do not. Well, technically I gallop on a treadmill for one mile, tops. But as soon as that marker hits on the digital screen, dunzo. Then I crank up the incline significantly, well beyond stilleto heights, and walk til the cows come home. Wait, that was probably a bad idiom to use. But the point is a slow stride suits me better.
I have always admired the running species. When I see them huffing and puffing along cobblestone sidewalks, particularly in frigid winter or horrid heat conditions, I stare in awe. It is no secret that my body, internal organs and mental strength are not my allies when it comes to rapid movement on foot. Despite my own willpower and internal coaching efforts, still I have been unsuccessful in willing my legs to go the distance. Nike needs to come out with a “Big Booty Edition” with a state-of-the-art technologically advanced design that enables large asses to withstand pounding against pavement.
During a lovely coffee chat with JJ this morning, just after mulling over our uncomfortable waist cinching clothes and horrific holiday sugar binging, we discussed registering for an upcoming marathon in March. Ok fine, a 10K, but to me that might as well be 26.2. As diligent students of sweat, we drafted a training schedule for the next 11 weeks including MPH pacing ranges, intervals of minutes added each week leading up to D-Day, and which bracket [slow poke] we’ll place ourselves in when signing up. I could care less about “my time” as a personal mission is to just cross the damn finish line, but we decided on a 75 minute completion goal, or a 14ish minute mile. I typically run faster than that during my oh so killer 1 mile stints but for the sake of making it through the whole course, have to slow it down a bit.
The good news is USA Today has named this one of the “best running races in the country.” So, if I’m gonna put myself through this, might as well do it with 35,000 other masochists in the backyard of my beloved best city.
Although it feels like I just saved myself a VIP seat inside of Pandora’s Box, setting what previously has felt like an unachievable accomplishment is definitely motivating. Not to mention I virtually had the exact same discussion with another friend last year at the exact same time of year to sign up for the exact same 10K, but when push came to shove, it didn’t come to fruition…thanks to endless excuses. So instead, I’m putting my money where my mouth is and signing the online contract today. Not only will this journey inevitably help shave off the extra jean size I recently inherited, but pushing myself beyond confining, self-deprecating mental limits will be a medal in and of itself.
At the end, I surely will not have morphed into a 2-legged mustang. But I will have finally introduced the rubber to the road, literally and metaphorically.
I am woman, see me run. Ok, jog.
