It’s funny, my entire life that isn’t a sentence I ever, in a million years, thought I would write, or even think. I remember doing fitness testing throughout school and would just dread the running part of the test. Even as I got older, I was more of an aerobics person. I would say, “Ugh. I HATE running. I am SO not a runner.”
So what do I go and do? I marry one. I married a cross-country runner.
When Girl Child was about 18 months old, that runner I married decided he was going to train for and run the Portland Marathon. It was also about this time that I decided those last ten pregnancy pounds had out-stayed their welcome. One day after he returned from a training run, I asked him to push the jog stroller and let me join him for a slow run while he cooled down.
He told me, “don’t stop – slow all the way down if you have to, but don’t stop.” I listened.
I went out running again, and eventually worked myself up to two miles. Then three. And then I ran my first 5k.
I’ve been a runner ever since. I’ve gotten hurt, gotten depressed, gotten lazy, lost interest, regained interest, gotten hurt again, but I won’t stop. I may never run a marathon. Hell, I may never run a 15k because of my injuries. But I won’t stop.
So today, in the face of what happened at the Boston Marathon – I won’t stop. I will teach my children not to stop. I will slow all the way down if I have to, but I won’t stop.
Because if we stop, they win. And I won’t let them win.
I’m a runner.