Born to be Bad

My life is full of small victories. What I'm about to tell you is probably not a big deal to you, but it's quite an accomplishment for me: I ran a mile without stopping. TWICE. Now let me tell you - I toyed with the idea of telling you how many minutes I ran without stopping because the number of minutes is so large that you would think the distance I ran was at least double what I've told you, and I would, in turn, look way better. Sadly, I'm not very good at lying and self-deprecating humor is a strength of mine, so I'll let you bask in the hilarity that running a mile is a big deal for me.

Small victory aside, that running really sucked. I've said it once, and I'll say it again: some people are born to run, and some people are not. I first came to this conclusion in college, when I lived with distance runners who ran collegiate cross country and indoor/outdoor track; year-round runners - I mean, who does that? I will never forget when my roomie told me that if she didn't run, she would have a horrible day. She had to run to have a good day. My retort? The days I run are my worst days, and I have to avoid running to have a good day. That's when I decided that some people were simply MADE to run. I was not one of those people.

The number of times that I've tried to make myself into a good runner... well... I don't have enough fingers to count those times. And it's always you crazy runner people, who are BORN to run, who try to convince me that I can do it. Before you even THINK about posting a comment in here encouraging me that it's not impossible, you should think about taking another run instead (I can't think of a better threat than that). It's also you crazy runner people who indirectly continue to motivate me that I can do this - and no, I do not want to hear from you directly about it, so just shut it. No, no, no, it's not your face-to-face encouragement about running that keeps me coming back for another try, it's your gosh darn Facebook posts about it:

• "So and so finished way more miles than you can run at a pace double yours using Nike+/FitBit/MapMyRun/Blah Blah Whatever."
• "So and so just ran at least 1 mile for the last 70 million days. Reward? More freaking running!"
• "So and so just posted a photo to the album 'I ran a marathon, and you're still on the couch'"
• "So and so logged another awesome run that he/she really enjoyed - and you should just go cry in a corner."

Seriously, those are the types of posts I see in my Facebook feed. And I mean no offense to any of you, but SO MANY OF YOU are posting these statuses that I have to think, "By golly, if THEY can do it, I can do it!"

So here I am, a few weeks into a training program designed by my virtual running coach extraordinaire (shoutout to Dave Levy) with an immediate goal of running a 5k and an ultimate goal of running a 10k this fall. And let me tell you something: some people are born to run, and some people are not. I've never found it so difficult to sustain a run for a mile; I was born to be really bad at this, people. I know you can't tell by looking at me, but I'd much rather be in a weight room doing some strength training than this garbage. I'm more proud of the floor burns on my elbows from planks, my shaky jello legs after my leg workouts, and the calluses on my hands than I am of my running. As a matter of fact, I HOPE people notice the floor burns, sore muscles, and calluses because I'm so proud of them. When I'm running, I hope NO ONE notices me because I'm either A) panting like a dog on a hot day, B) embarrassed that I run at pretty much the slowest pace humanly possible, C) rolling my ankle on a stick in my path, or D) about to stop and walk. Who could be proud of any of that?

Nonetheless, I'm determined not to quit this time. I still hate it. I'm still horrible at it. I'd ask you to check in with me in another week or two to see if I've changed my tune, but, quite frankly, I don't want to rain on your "I love running" parade with the grim reality that some people are born to run and some aren't; I am NOT born to run. Thus, it will be a huge accomplishment if I make it to the end goal. I suppose I'll allow you to celebrate with me, if/when that day comes - because it will be a HUGE victory.

Peace, love, and side stitches--

Emily