Hello My Name is...

I can only think of a handful of times in my life where I have really wanted to quit. Throw my hands in the air, walk away, and never look back.

* My junior year of high school my softball coach tried to turn me into a pitcher. I am not a pitcher. Not even close. I could never get the wrist flick necessary to make the ball go more than .01 mph over the plate. Needless to say, we lost every single game that year. Every.single.game. Exhausted and frustrated, I wanted to quit softball and never look back.

I didn't. That summer my little league all star team traveled to Arizona to play in a regional championship tournament. One of the most memorable sporting accomplishments of my life.

* My first semester at Cal. After enduring a semester of walking across campus between classes-- no one had mentioned that I should take a look at the campus map when planning/selecting my classes. Across campus = a little over a mile. UP HILL. Did I mention I had TEN MINUTES. No one told me to look at the finals schedule either when picking classes. As a result, I ended up with FOUR final exams...over TWO days. I had never been so stressed out, exhausted, and overwhelmed in my life. Exhausted and frustrated, I wanted to quit. Throw my hands in the air, walk away, and never look back.

I didn't. Many semesters later, I would walk across the stage twice. Once for my undergrad degree and again for my master's degree.

* Giving birth to my first son, Ty. After a relatively quick and easy labor I was faced with a challenging delivery. Three hours of pushing and no baby. Exhausted and frustrated, I wanted to quit.

I didn't. I didn't really have a choice in the matter. Thirty minutes later, my beautiful son FINALLY entered the world.

And lastly, Saturday.

I went into the practice run feeling very confident. I felt great through mile eight. Nine. Around mile ten I could really feel the pain in my hip. My whole lower body ached. I couldn't see the finish line. Like, REALLY couldn't see the finish line. Exhausted and frustrated, I wanted to quit. Walk. Hitch hike. Hop on someone's back. Crawl. Anything OTHER THAN run. Fortunately, I had Rachel there to tell me no walking. WE can do this. I thought she was crazy. I couldn't see an end in sight. EVERYTHING hurt. I thought "I AM NOT A RUNNER"...what am I doing. How did I get here.

If you were to ask me if I am a runner, I would reluctantly answer. Sort of. In my mind: runners hop out of bed, throw on their shoes, and run. No mental debates fought between one's self. Run. Not run. Stay in bed. Run. For me, there is ALWAYS a mental debate. A million other things I'd rather do. But in the end, I usually run. Saying you are a runner comes with expectations. Runners don't quit. I REALLY wanted to quit. Runners exhibit perseverance, determination, courage, strength. They set out to accomplish a goal...and do it.

I didn't quit. I crossed the finish. Feeling slightly down and mad at myself for wanting to quit. Only to find out that the course was longer than expected. I had run further than I thought. I had done it. I had finished. Hours later, I found myself thinking about our practice run. Our 12 MILE practice run.

Sports. Running. Why do this? Two kids. A busy, traveling husband. Ultimately, I realize running pushes me to be stronger. Persevere. Determined. Strong. Work towards a goal.

Hello, my name is April. And I am a runner.