I Want(ed) To Be A Runner

 But I'm not.  

Years ago I had this idea of starting a running routine to train for a 5k (3.1 miles).   As soon as my sneakers hit the pavement the realization that I'm not a runner set in.  It was hard.  I couldn't get my breathing correctly and my legs felt as if they were giving out.  I tried to pace myself; walk for most of it and then add more running each time.  It was useless and I stopped.  Another dream of mine that quickly went to the wasteland.  

Now my son, who hasn't done much running in his sixteen years of life, decided to join the cross-country team.  His stamina is amazing.   He showed up for his first practice and blew everyone away.  Then came the dreaded words, "Mom, do a 5k with me.  Let's do the Turkey Trot this year."

If you haven't heard of the Turkey Trot it's a 5k on Thanksgiving morning.   4 months away.  My husband cheers me on and is filled with confidence I can do it.   I know he means well and I appreciate his confidence in me but the more I hear him pushing the further my mind goes from wanting to do it.  My dad used to hassle my mom about her weight but his words only sunk her further into depression.   It's the same for me.  

I joined my son and his team at the rail trail on Saturday for practice.   The team was off, passing me by until they were out of site.  I walked a few feet and then began.  One foot swiftly in front of the other.  I quickly realized I was in the wrong clothes for a run.  Rule 1: don't wear khaki shorts and a cotton t-shirt.   My heavy phone in my pocket wore me down but I wanted that worship music to help me go.  I ran a little, walked more of it, ran a little more, realized my shoe got untied so I stopped to fix it, turned around, walked a little, ran a few feet, walked, then ran the last few feet.  I arrived at the car thirsty and sweaty, my vision blurry.  It was bad.  I'm just not cut out for this.

What's most frustrating is the idea of letting my son down.  He wants this for me.  My husband's words of "encouragement", especially when they are said in front of our kids, only sinks me further in the pit of disappointment.   As I sat in the car waiting for my son to return I cried.  I've never been one to accomplish goals.  {As you might know, it's taken me years just to finish one manuscript.}   I'm not competitive in nature.   I easily give up on the things I know I can't do.  I'm not just disappointing my son.  I'm disappointing myself.  

A 5k.  4 months away.  It may seem easy for you.   I'm the most unathletic person on the face of this earth.  But I've always been one to try to give my children the things they desire and, so, I guess the seriousness of training for this 3.1 miles of agony is something I must do.  Y'all pray for me!