I’ve never been a runner.
I was that kid who hated running in school. Loathed it. I stole all the usual clichés, like, “I’m only going to run if something’s chasing me.”
Of course, we never stop to realize if we’re not good at running, we’re not going to do very well when our lives depend on it.
I digress. Point is, I hated running.
Past tense. When it sunk in that improving my cardiovascular endurance would not only be good for my health but would improve my karate performance, I decided I’d best hit the track.
I’ve been running on and off since (except in Winter, because screw that noise), and I’d get in a 5K (3.11 miles) every session, alternating walking and running. I completed two Warrior Dash events that way in 2012 and 2014, though before long I could hit a mile consistently.
Earlier this year, I was able to hit two miles straight. That felt good. I couldn’t even do a mile as a teenager.
Then, Monday night, for the first time ever, I was able to run the full length of a 5K.
I’m pretty damned happy with that. The pace is nothing to get excited over, but speed will come with time. Meanwhile, I’m in better shape now than when I got married.