I Hate Running

Actually, I'm not sure hate is the right word.

You know when you are a kid, and you say, "I hate my sister/brother/friend/teacher/parent," and your parents tell you, "Honey, hate is a strong word. You don't mean hate." And then they make you substitute hate for something else - dislike, despise, resent - so you grow up thinking that hate is a bad word that you shouldn't use for anything? Well, in my case, hate is not strong enough. But until they make a word stronger than hate, all I can say is: I HATE running.

I would WALK out of my house if it was on fire. My dad used to say that I was the only person he knew that could swim faster than she could walk. And for one horrible season, when my mom made me join the track team, I opted for the long jump as my event because that was the shortest amount of running I could get away with.

In fact, when I think of running, I remember a quote I once heard. "Life is short ... running makes it seem longer" (Baron Hansen). I know there is a great inspirational message here, but I just can't see it that way - I see the quote as "Life is short - don't torture yourself by running."

The reason I bring this up is that a friend of mine talked me into running an 8K with her. Big deal, you might be thinking. 4.97 measly miles. So what?

I have never run further than 50 yards without stopping to gasp for water and fall down.

Still, my friend and I are determined to lose weight and get in shape (pregnancy has the annoying side effect of making you lose your shape). And I mentioned that maybe we should do a 5K to help us stay motivated. I sure as hell didn't mean we should run the damn thing - I thought maybe we could walk it. I was even willing to walk fast.

But she found an 8K at the end of February, and she mapped out a strategy for us in terms of training. I said sure before I found out that her strategy involved us running. Still, I knew she was right and I grudgingly agreed. (I'm still bitching though - it's a matter of principle now.)

So we started our training - our goal is to hit the gym 3 to 4 times a week. And some weeks we do better than others, which isn't bad given how busy the two of us are. And last week, I surpassed my previous record by a mile: I ran 1.57 miles without stopping once. I might have been able to go further, but I didn't want to.

For the first time, I began to believe that I could do this, that running this 8K is an attainable goal. And every time I make it to the gym, I feel proud of myself for accomplishing something, and I feel better about myself in terms of my body image, too. Perhaps most importantly, I am not as stressed as I was before. Still just as tired, but not as stressed.

At the end of the day, do I like running? Hell, no. But it is a means to an end, so it's something I will do. The new motto I have for running seems to sum it up perfectly: "Run like hell and get the agony over with" (Clarence DeMar).