I am a runner. I AM a runner. I am a RUNNER. No matter how I said it, it sounded funny to me. And it was usually followed by the words, “…but I run slower than your grandmother.” Inevitable laughter would follow and then I’d change the subject. The truth is, I never considered myself any kind of an athlete, let alone a runner. I was the woman who took the elevator instead of the stairs-the woman who canceled more workouts than I showed up for and when I did show up, I preferred lifting weights over anything cardio-related.
So why then, did I decide to take up running five months after my 49th birthday?
I always liked the idea of running. The graceful movement, the length of stride, the elite sense of community; they were all attractive to me. But it was the sense of freedom that really called to me. Freedom from stress. Freedom from obligations. And most of all, freedom from thoughts. My runner friends always said running was great for clearing your head. And I wanted a clear head.
So, in January I downloaded a 5K running app and joined another gym. My first night, I hopped on a treadmill, tapped on the app and started to jog. Imagine my shock and surprise when I couldn’t run for even a minute. I pushed as best I could through the twenty three minute workout and I went home depressed. Over the next couple of months I “ran” sporadically. Work was busy, I was traveling, it was cold outside, the gym was too crowded-I had a million excuses. I talked to a running coach. She wrote me a running plan. I did one of every three workouts she gave me. Obviously I got nowhere. I decided to set a goal for a 5K in September. Within days of setting it, I derailed myself completely. I started having panic attacks at the gym and at the track. After a few minutes I felt like I was drowning-my throat would close up, my legs felt like lead and I was literally gasping for air like fish out of water! I should have just given up, but for some reason I didn’t. Despite all the drama, I liked running!
I don’t remember the exact day, but sometime over the last two months I decided to get serious. I started showing up for my weight training workouts-literally and figuratively. I actually did the running workouts my coach gave me. I started to believe in myself and my abilities. And almost immediately I saw some improvement. Although I was slow, I was able to run a little longer each week. Last weekend I ran for 28.5 minutes on the treadmill. Six months ago I couldn’t run for one minute and I just did 28.5 minutes in a row!
I was excited! But more importantly, I was inspired. Where could this lead? I talked to my running friends. I talked to my coach. We all had the same thought-I needed a goal. A 5K didn’t seem big enough. Neither did a 10K. I mentioned a half marathon to my coach. She smiled. Then she asked me what my real goal was-my dream event. I took a deep breath and said “I want to run the New York City Marathon.”
And so my journey began…
From Fifty to the Finish Line 