We're TRI-ing - Seven Weeks to Go!

Tim:  Running.  Ugh.  I used to be a Runner.  A long time ago in a life that seems so far removed, I wonder if it was actually me.  But I still have medals adorned with bas relief runners in the shoebox of old keepsakes and the memories they conjure.  I ran track and cross country in high school, then 10Ks in my 20s.

I called myself a runner because I had a serious relationship with running.  I loved running.  I was young and lithe and fast.  I remember long transcendent runs through woods.  There were moments of glory.

But like every relationship that starts in high school, running ran its course.

I remember the last time.  You always remember the good-byes, right?  The Creeper Classic 5K.  Abingdon, Virginia.  October, 1994.  I was a 30-pounds-overweight, pack-a-day smoker.  I ran it on a lark really; my older brother was running it.  I remember there was a narrow trestle bridge just 300 yards from the starting line, and I knew it would be a choke point.  I wanted to get to that bridge before the pack - and I did. 

When I crossed it, I was in first place. Thirty-seven painful minutes later, I re-crossed it and staggered to the finish line.  I remember reviewing the race results; I had been beaten by an 8-year-old girl and an 80-year-old woman.  Silver Lining: Out of the dozens of free T-shirts I got from races, the Creeper Classic tee was by far the best; wore that one until it fell off.

Now, I think of running as an abusive-but-still-compelling ex who, 25 years past the good times, drunk dials me in the middle of the night and asks if I want get together.  I've always been able to laugh and hang up, but now I find myself forced to rekindle this affair by the Reston Sprint Triathlon.  It’s a little awkward, to say the least.

But when this is over, Running, I-swear-to-God: Never Again. We. Are.Through. (Again.)  I'm totally happy with Hiking and Biking.  Unlike you, they love me just as much as I love them.  Lose my digits.

Next week’s blog will include a recap of a great seminar we just attended at Potomac River Running in Reston Town Center.  Professional Triathlete/Supermodel Margie Shapiro explained it all, speaking slowly and using small words, to a roomful of nervous newbies.  Sneak Preview: Rule Number One in Triathlons is No Nudity.  I am not making this up.

Karen: Somewhere, midweek, I hit the big fat wall of Doubt, Despair and Defeat.

I’d gone to the gym almost every morning and been mindful of what I ate. I’ve been good and stayed on track, but on Wednesday I went out for my first solo road run (ever!) and every sock-puppet of self-doubt reared its ugly little sock-puppet head.

Running is hard for someone who’s never run. My family is the sort of English stock who do not.  I have the body of a gymnast, not some sleek, sinewy gazelle who spends her life running from predators. My body is designed for flexibility and strength. Running is foreign to my existence. It is hard. I hate it. I look stupid.

After my sad attempt at running, I came home despondent.  My first words to Tim when I walked through the door: “I’m never going to be able to do this. I don’t know what I was thinking. “

I had another stupid salad for dinner. I drank my one stupid glass of wine (OK, two) – and I went to bed at 9 p.m. completely despondent.

A good night’s sleep can help every situation.

In the morning, I realized that although the run had been ugly and hard and no fun at all, I HAD run. I ran from my door to our Golf Course Island garden and back again. It was the farthest I had ever run in my life, even if it was just ~maybe~ a mile.  At 40 years old, I did something I had never done when I was a teenager. I did it because I decided I was going to do it, and I was grown up enough to follow through on that decision.

On Thursday, I ran again with Tim.  We ran-walked-ran to Lake Fairfax and back.

On Saturday, I ran to Lake Fairfax by myself – two and a half miles. I did not laugh and I did not cry. I decided I was going to do it, and I did.

I may never like running. I may never feel like a natural at it, but I promised myself I would complete a triathlon and no one is going to do it for me. We are doing this because it is hard, not because it’s easy.

Let’s go.