I hate running.

Running and I have pretty much had a love-hate relationship for as long as I can remember (with special emphasis on the hate part).  My earliest memories are of a chubby adolescent in co-ed gym trying if nothing else to keep from looking like I was sucking air (which I very much was) while also trying to keep my shorts from riding up.  I actually welcomed the idea of leg-surgery at the end of my sophomore year so that I could be excused from running the mile.  Sad I know.  After graduation I promised I’d never run again.  There was one time I almost broke a sweat walking fast to catch up with Elijah last week . . . but other than that, I’m pretty sure I’ve kept my word.

Until today.

I’m not entirely sure what made me do it, but today, I laced up my 10 year old gym shoes (yes I’ve used them that much) clipped on our ghetto nano and went running.  Actually it was a half jog-half walk, but that’s not the point.  I did something for me today that falls into the for-my-own-good category and I’m happy to say I feel proud.

Pushing through the hate, a variety of people came to mind who inspired me to keep moving forward during my run (jog/walk).

• My brother James who I laughed at when he decided to start running, but he kept running anyway.
• My friend Melody who is so committed, she bought a new pair of running shoes while visiting because she left hers at home.
• My friend Melissa who disciplines herself to run despite the fact that she hates sweating almost as much as I do.
• My friend Danelle and her mom who both run to be healthy and look fabulous.
• My friend Brittany who runs marathons (for fun!).
• All the beautiful thin moms I know (who will remain nameless) who look better post-partum than I did pre-Elijah, and
• Sylvester Stallone and the Rocky soundtrack which I’ve come to appreciate as the anthem of the gym (I can’t help it – I think in movies).