Endurance Riding

One week ago I ran my first 5K. I have never been a runner. I hated running. In high school, I was a swimmer. And I had no desire to do track and field. EVER.

After the New Year, even though I had been going to the gym, I decided I had to incorporate running into my cross-training in preparation for Tevis. I put a star on the resolution board at the gym that declares “I am going to be just as fit as my horse.” I decided to sign up for a 5K because I knew if I had a goal, it would cause me to purposefully and more seriously train. Sounded good, right?

The first 4-6 weeks of training were brutal. At first, I couldn’t even run a mile. Then, when I pushed myself and got to that mile mark, I felt nauseous, dizzy, and faint all at once. My lungs felt like they were on fire inside my chest. I remember telling Gary I didn’t think I could do it. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a runner.

I can’t tell you exactly what happened, but somewhere between that 4^th and 6^th week, I had pushed through this wall. I could suddenly run a mile and not feel like I was going to fall off the back of the treadmill. And then I did a mile and a quarter, a mile and a half, and then it just got fun to see how far I could go. It was just fun to see how far I could push it.

On March 2^nd, one day after my 31^st birthday, I was lined up for the start of the Bidwell Classic 5K. I had woken up late that morning and almost didn’t make it to the race. I didn’t have time to stretch. I had been yelled at by a fellow runner when I (unknowingly) cut in line at the bathrooms. I was stressed out and about to cry, wondering, again, if maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a runner.

And then it was time to run. And I ran. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other…

When I crossed the finish line, I learned that I had run an almost 10-minute mile average, with a finishing time of 32.53.9 (that’s just shy of 32 minutes, 54 seconds). I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t high-five. I didn’t even smile, at first. I put one foot in front of the other and just kept on walking. And on that walk, I learned something about myself: I can do it.

You can do it. When you believe that, you will be empowered. You can do it. Anything is possible.

The look of surprise after my husband, Gary, told me my finishing time.

Oranges never tasted so good.

My beautiful children, who are always cheering me on. Jakob will be running with me at my next 5K.

Tags: endurance

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