My Love Affair

I had never officially trained for a race....well, unless you count showing
up to local 5k and 10ks prior to the shots & many beers & margaritas
that would be consumed following a few random races I had hopped into. Make no
mistake, I wasn't your average non-runner...I was a washed up college volleyball
player who for a volleyball player could run.  I ran recreationally to stay in
shape and even turned down an offer to run track at my university my senior
year. But running fast 3 milers hardly made me a seasoned distance runner.

Then, I hit that fork in the road so to speak...I had just left a job I had
loved to stay home with my 1 year old & newborn...yes, two babies in one
year...you can imagine where this is going. So after the honeymoon of being home
with my own babies had worn off; reality hit...I felt I could go in any
direction. I was exhausted, out of shape, & probably had the blues. I
remember being at my gym (where I worked Saturdays just to escape the house)
thinking how am I going to make it? I could do drugs....nah, I'm too much of a
rule follower. I could get really, really fat...just forget my healthy habits
& sit around the house eating bon bons & watching soaps. I could start
drinking...heavily...after all, alcoholism runs in my family, I'd probably be
pretty good at it &I could numb myself safely...or..it was then, that I
literally looked up & noticed a flier for a brand new half marathon coming
to the area. That's it...I knew it immediately. That's my ticket to sanity.
I had not ran more than 3 miles in maybe 3 years. Even though I had a
personal training certification, I had no idea how to apply it to distance
running. Yes, I'm going to run 13.1 miles, and I am going to figure out how to
train myself to do it. Why not? Beats being a drunken fat housewife who watches
soaps all day.

And so that is how my love affair began. I trained myself...had no clue what
I was doing & had to do most of my runs on a treadmill at the gym while my
babies were in the gym nursery, but I did it...start to finish. I even managed
to run the race in just under an 8:00 minute a mile pace. More than that though,
I got a piece of myself back. The part of me that knew I deserved that time to
myself...that I needed that time. Also I rediscovered that person I forgot I was
when I became a mother...I was an athlete...someone who thrives on
competition...loves to push limits...& feels more beautiful and comfortable
in my skin when I'm sweaty and working my ass off...on the road, in the weight
room...just being me. Thanks to my love affair with distance running, I learned
how to love myself again.