My Official Induction into the Running World

Christine and I just after our race!

Those of you who know me best will remember that, despite a couple of phases of infatuation with running in college, during which I would want to run every day for a month or two until the passion fizzled out, I would say that I hate running. I think that, when I was in physical therapy last year for a freak knee injury and was told I couldn't run (HA, not that I was a runner anyway), I really wanted to start again, so start I did once my physical therapist gave me the green light.

Throughout the fall and winter, I put the miles on, built up my speed and, yes, even grew to tolerate the monotony of the treadmill. My New Year's Resolution (I feel like it's better if I share it, since then I will maybe force myself to hold to it) was to run a half-marathon, and I soon set my sights on the Historic Half-Marathon in May. Well, my body had other plans; it seems as though every time I run, some confused combination of knees and ankles decides to get injured, meaning that I don't think I've ever run more than 9 miles.

However, a friend told me about the Hurry Up 4 Health 8K that was taking place on the towpath along the C&O Canal last weekend and I couldn't resist. 'What a perfect foray into the world of running races,' I thought, so I hurriedly signed up. Well, my poor, broken body had other plans for me, because I did something to tweak my right ankle during a run on Tuesday, and then a run on Thursday further exacerbated it, leaving it swollen and incredibly painful to walk on. On the day of the race, I gave myself a lazy day (even though I easily run the same distance several mornings a week 15 minutes after popping out of bed with no lazing-around time...but that's beside the point) and met my parents down by the Potomac (where my dad, ever the crew enthusiast, had dragged my mom to a crew race and looked like a little kid in a candy store). They had (adorably) decided that they wanted to watch my race, so we walked over together. It also turned out that my friend Christine was running the race, so we decided to be running buddies.

I was surprised at how nervous I was before the race; for all intents and purposes, this was a "normal" race for me, but it was my FIRST race, and damn it, my ankle hurt. I resolved to run until the pain became too much to bear, even though I knew, in the back of my mind, that I wouldn't let myself quit (my mom often uses the word "headstrong" to describe me, but, in the context of exercise, I don't really think she gets where my self-discipline (or maybe masochism) comes from). Surprisingly, my ankle didn't bother me at all during the race, although having to dodge rocks, puddles and the occasional root certainly made me nervous. It was a lot more enjoyable because Christine and I were pacing each other the entire time, and we ended up finishing two seconds apart, me at 41:08 and her at 41:10. Despite the fact that I didn't finish with the blazing speed (just over 30 minutes) of the guy who won, I was pleased with my time for the first race. As I crossed the finish line, where my beaming dad stood taking a picture on his phone (only to fail at saving and sending it...oh well, he tries) and slowed down...oh, God, ouch, my ankle was killing me, and suddenly I couldn't put any weight on it. The only justification I can come up with is the runner's high that I must have been on (I can fully attest to the fact that it does exist), and I think the adrenaline just kept me from noticing the pain.

Nearly a week later, my bothersome ankle is still swollen (perhaps because I tempted fate and run on it again yesterday), but I can now say that my first race is behind me. Hopefully 2011 will be the year that I do run a half-marathon, even though so much of it is conditional upon my body and the extent to which it lets me train. Stay tuned...the next one I'm considering is the Rock 'n Roll Half in Virginia Beach, which I believe is in the fall. Otherwise, I'm hopeful that I can get myself in shape for the National Half-Marathon on the same day as the MCM. Thank you all for humoring me!!! I'm sure you could probably care less about my 8K, but it was a victory for me (I may have shed a tear thinking back to elementary school, when I was the girl with asthma who couldn't finish the Mile Run because she had an asthma attack every time), and it is hopefully a building block to bigger, better races!!!!