Country Miles

I have now been running with a miraculous streak of consistency for over a week now. Victory is obviously soon to be mine. However, I have with it received a few hard-won straightforward truths in my time thus far as a non-walking, psychopath that runs without being chased.

1. When I run, I pant in a very unattractive way. And I accumulate truckloads of saliva in my mouth…(has to be at least 3 time more than the average human being.) Which makes it necessary to spit, and then cough, and then moan in agony. This is when I usually have to reassure Bethany that I don’t need to stop and walk. So in conclusion, running makes me lie to Bethany.

2. The longer I run, the harder I breathe and cough, the worse I feel, the more unattractive I look, the more I think about jumping in front of a moving car.

3. The progression of my run is always the same. It starts with horrible self loathing at the beginning of a run, to thoughts like ‘okay I might make it’ (around 1 mile), and then 5 seconds later switches to unbearably impossible leg cramps, lungs about to explode, and me on the verge of tears. The run never even attempts to switch it up.

4. After my “long run” yesterday, I feel entitled to a sick day at work today. For both recovery and my sanity’s sake. It’s a miracle that I even got out of bed this morning.

5. The feeling I have before. EVERY. SINGLE. RUN. is the same feeling I had right about the time when my 7th grade P.E. coach uttered the words “country mile.” Let me explain. Coach Mac was a very large woman. She was 6’6 and had the largest mouth I have ever seen. A “country mile” was when we would slick our pony tails back on the top of our heads, leave the comfort of the gym, and run all around the middle school campus in the mud, taking laps around the baseball and football fields. (I swear we only did country miles right after it rained.) Without fail, someone would roll an ankle while trying to jump over the swamp ditch behind the football practice field. We would end up on the other end of the gym after making the loop, and like clockwork, Coach Mac would force us to do it again. Usually while she sat on the bleachers eating candy. Most days we made 3 loops. She would put sharpie marks on our arms to make sure we were getting all of our mileage in. It was like some kind of crazy kid boot camp and I hated every minute. Running still ignites the same rage in my spirit.

To this day, I cannot figure out why I didn’t instead run to Mark Coleman’s house who lived right past the fence behind the fields, mark myself with sharpie and ask his precious mom for a donut or other snack, only to jump back into in the pack for the finish line. What can I say, when I was 12, I wasn’t the con-artist that I am now.

6. I am never going to be the girl that looks cute on a run. Off label track pants, oversized t-shirts and 14 layers are a few of my staples. Also, nothing matches. Bethany usually looks like she just walked off the cover of NIKE magazine. So..that’s awesome.

7. Running is the most extreme example of torture. Every step is a form of insanity.

8. Being a long distance runner isn’t easy. I say this not from experience, but from countless hours of watching “The Biggest Loser’ and scrolling through the Fitness section of Pinterest.

9. I still don’t know what the HELL people are talking about when they use the term “Runner’s High.” Really looking forward to hopefully finding out. Really not looking forward to actually running to find out.

10. Nothing, and I repeat nothing, makes running more bearable than Justin Bieber and Kanakuk theme songs. Sorry not sorry.

Basically, in conclusion, you can go ahead and write my full name down and hold it under a black light. The word “WINNER” should appear.

Until next time, I’ll be kicking and screaming all the way to May 6th. I feel confident that by then I will either be really fit or dead. Let’s find out together, eh?