You're kidding, right?

I can remember the first time I actually RAN on a treadmill. It was years ago and I couldn't believe that the machine said I did a mile in just about 10 minutes. I was never able to run a 10-min mile during all those physical fitness tests during high school, but there I was 25 years old and able to run it without dying! So as my workouts continued, my pace got faster and my distance grew.

Soon, I had signed up for my first 10K. Oh dear. I couldn't believe that I had been convinced to bypass the 5K for my first race and do a 10K. But I was excited. I had 'trained' which mostly just meant that I regularly went to the gym and did my time on the treadmill. Then race day came. I was a ball of jitters. I made it thru the first 3.1 miles and then hit my wall. I swore to myself that I would NEVER race again. Who am I to think that I could actually be one of the many runners out there?! I crossed that finish lane proud that I actually ran across it and the overhwelming feeling of pride, exhiliaration and accomplishment washed over me. Hmmm, maybe I will race again. I wasn't all that bad, I kept telling myself.

So fast forward to the past couple of years. I had my twins in 2006. The weight felt like it melted off and that meant I wanted even more to come off. A fellow coworker and I started having running nights. It was hard to stay up until 9pm and then go running only to have the runner's high and be up until midnight coupled with middle of the night wakings made it tough. But I did it. I felt good. I just wanted to get out there again and do what I had done so many years ago. If it wasn't one thing it was another that kept me from regularly getting back out there. And once again I fell off the wagon.

I knew that I needed to get back to running because it made me feel good. I was able to put aside all of my everyday stresses and focus on my breathing and just being by myself. I started up again more regularly last year after my mom died. It was something that I wanted to do for myself and again needed to. It wasn't until someone mentioned the words: half marathon that I seriously considered joining in on the 'fun'. (Previously I had sworn that the only 1/2 marathon anyone would get me to run would be the Disneyland one...because how can you turn down running through the happiest place on Earth?!) I ran when I could which wasn't often, but I did it. I ran the majority of that 13.1 mile race. Holy $#!&* cow! And it was one of my most proudest moments ever! I tear up thinking about the sight at that finish line: my husband, my two boys and two of my very best friends cheering me on. It was a beautiful moment and one that I can't wait to repeat as we continue our training for another HALF marathon.

Running with a jogging stroller is HARD!

I differ from my running buddies in that I work outside of the home. I know I have at least 4 days of running sans kiddos. Granted, it most likely is going to be on a treadmill, but at least I don't have to push a jogging stroller.

On the weekends, my husband (bless his heart), always pushes both of the kids when we run together. If we don't run together, he stays home with them while I get my miles in.

Today was a little different. My son and my husband started a "Daddy and Me" soccer class which will be every Saturday morning until March. I was/am very excited to have a couple hours in the morning alone with my daughter.

It has been raining like crazy the last few weeks, so I decided to take advantage of the sunny day and hit the local running trail near our house, I was hoping to put in 5 miles. I loaded her up into the jogging stroller and ran through the check list: pacifier, check, bottle, check, diapers, check, wipes, check, cell phone, check, keys, check, we were ready to go.

I walked to the park, got to the "start" line (where they start the mileage count) and started pounding the pavement.

After about 100 yards, I was winded. What the hell was going on?! Then in dawned on me, she weighs 15 lbs., the stroller weighs 24 lbs., I was pushing almost 40 lbs.!!!

My 5 mile run turned into a 2 1/2 mile run.

I don't envy my fellow mommy runners who have to push the "beast", single or double, either way, it is HARD!

You are doing what?!

I have always been athletic. Starting when I was a little bit of a girl, playing basketball in the Y league with boys (yelling "stop" when we wanted a shot and shooting the volleyball toward the hoop), to starting the 6th grade basketball program at my Jr. High, to playing basketball, softball, running cross country and track in high school.

Then I went to college. Is drinking a sport? If so, I was GOOD at it. Really good. And then came the weight gain that came with all that drinking/fast food eating lifestyle. I graduated, came home, started Weight Watchers and started running.

I didn't run for fun or enjoyment, I ran to lose weight. When I got engaged, I ran to be the "skinny bride" and fit in my wedding dress. Then I got married. And comfortable. And gained weight. Then I got pregnant with my son.

After I had him, I decided I didn't want to be his fat mom and started running again. The longest I ran was about 3 miles at a time. Then I got pregnant again and had my daughter.

I decided when I was pregnant that I was going on a diet as soon as I had her. I was tired of being on the larger size and wasn't feeling good about myself.

Shortly after my daughter was born in April, someone (I think my sister and her boyfriend) talked about running a half marathon in October. I think I laughed at them. I had just had a baby, she doesn't sleep through the night, I was nursing, I work full time, I commute with two kids, but in the back of my mind I thought, hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Then I posted something on the mommy internet site I frequent, something along the lines of "would it be crazy if I started training for a half marathon..." Then two of my friends said they would do it with me. Awesome, I had two crazy people to train with.

And then we started training. And training. And training. We ran on zero sleep, we ran through the intense summer heat, we ran on our lunch hours, in the early morning, after the kids went to bed. We ran. And it was starting to feel good.

WHAT?! The girl who hated running cross country was actually enjoying running?!

And then we ran our first half marathon. 13.1 miles. And each one of us finished. An unbelievable accomplishment for each one of us. I ran across the finish line, holding my son and my husband's hands, crying, as my family and friends cheered me on from the sidelines.

Best feeling ever.

And so, I am doing it again. In June. And I can't wait.

The Making of a Reluctant Runner

For the longest time I swore up and down that running was bad for women. Therefore, not one to go against medical evidence and scientific information, I didn't run. Somewhere along the way I had heard that there was something about the arches in women's feet that made running difficult. Or so I believed. It's not that I didn't like being active, I loved sports, I just hated running. Why would anyone in his or her right mind choose to run...unless being chased in which case it wouldn't really be a choice. It is actually possible that I may have made up above said scientific information to get out of running events in high school...but I can't remember for sure.

And then I got engaged. Searching for a way to become a "Buff Bride" I started jogging. Slowly. I managed to run a quarter mile. And thought I was near death. And then worked up to a half mile. Then one mile. Eventually I was running three miles. I would love to say I was running with ease but I don't know if anyone ever truly runs with ease- there is always some sort of challenge whether it be the first mile, getting started, or finding the time. The upcoming wedding was motivation enough. The thought of hundreds of eyes on ME freaked me out and pushed me to get out and run.

After the wedding, I continued to run. I often ran the local reservoir- a hilly, challenging, 3 mile loop. In my head, I told myself that once in my lifetime I would like to run a half marathon. It sounded cool. Was fun to say. I never thought it would become a reality, especially as I had never really run more than six miles and was firmly aware that one DRIVES 13.1 miles. Again, it sounded really cool and was fun to throw into conversations. After all, "life goal" meant I had the rest of my life, duh.

After having Tyson, I ran to lose the baby weight. I ran when I could, often running on very little sleep and pushing a very unhappy baby in the jogging stroller. There were many days when a nap trumped running. As Ty got older the thought of running while trying to feed/console/entertain/block out the whining/crying/fussing trumped actually getting out to run. After having Jake, I ran to lose the baby weight. I ran when I could, often running on LESS sleep than after having Ty. Going for a run now meant packing a snack for Ty, toys for Ty, books for Ty, water for Ty, water for me, snack for me, diapers for Jake, wipes for Jake, Hooter Hider for me, toys for Jake, blankets for Jake...by the time I was done packing up to go out for a run I often found myself faced with dirty diapers, hungry children, or a child in need of a nap.

And then a couple girlfriends mentioned they wanted to run a half marathon. I jumped on the opportunity to train and run with friends. Half serious. Not sure if it would become a reality. It sounds REALLY good but really...run 13.1 miles. In a row. Without dying. Voluntarily. AND pay someone for the "honor"...not so sold on this. After all, we all had two kids. Two of us had infants. None of us were getting full night's of sleep. What were we thinking...but we continued to train. We ran through the heat of the summer. We ran through the fussing. And whining. And tears. We ran through the exhaustion. And doubt. And we all crossed that finish line.

As I ran around the corner towards the finish line I had to hold back tears. I couldn't believe I was about to cross the finish line and complete something I had seen as impossible. Somehow between the sleep deprivation, diaper changes, toddler tantrums...I had done this. I. Did. This. WE did this.

And we'll do it again...in JUNE.

Somehow. With a busy husband, busier than in the fall, an active-HATES-the-jogging-stroller 3 year old, and an on-the-verge-of-walking-also-HATES-the-jogging-stroller 1year old...I can do this again. Don't ask me how many times I have run since the October Half. It's a shame really. I desperately need to find my running mojo again...however, it seems really hard to find at 5 am. Or in 40 degree weather. Or in the rain. Or when it's too foggy. Or when...*enter weather/sleep/kid/time excuse*. And you wondered why I put "reluctant" in the title...the one thing I wish I had done differently the last time is chronicle my training. The ups and downs. So here starts the chronicling...day one.