Running in a Pack

I was dreading going to running club.  DREADING.  Last week was so miserable I cried for two days after.

Yesterday morning, as I delivered my promised coconut- choc chip -crack macaroons to our public radio station, I discovered that the running club that manages the beginner running class I do was staffing the phone lines.  So, there I was, carrying in a boatload of extremely unhealthy cookies, ones that ought to come with a surgeon general's warning, and they are waving and saying hi, etc..

I know a few people in the regular running club -Stephanie, who talked me into trying the running class, some work colleagues, a couple folks from my church.  Steph was there and hugged me and promised to be at the track that evening.

I actually felt better knowing that people who love me outside my nascent ability to run would be there.  I KNOW no one is judging me, but it feels perfectly terrible to be so publicly awful at something.  It is really nice when hardcore runners come up and hug you and are proud of you just for showing up.

MK and I gave each other "pep talks" mid-afternoon.  No matter how much it sucks, we just have to show up, that's all.  We made escape plans.  We decided that if it is horrible we will just go run by ourselves at a local park during this time.  We conspired on how to let the organizers know how horrid running at the track is without hurting their feelings, of course, because they are awfully nice people.

So, we show up at the track.  A couple of people came up and thanked me for the cookies earlier in the day.  Then, having had a rough day at work, the very last thing I wanted to hear was: Today, we shall run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, lather rinse repeat.

I looked at MK and just muttered, Forget it, I'm out, I can't do this.

"Yes, you can," she whispered back, "and if you can't then do 2 minutes and walk the rest." One of my downline staff (who is an advanced runner) overheard us and patted my back and said, "Please stay, just try."

Scowly face.  I could feel my throat close up and tears begin to well.

Forest-the-running-coach must have seen the look on my face because he walked over and said, Look if you want to, you can just run 2 minutes, walk the rest, do what you can can, and if you want, you can just walk the laps, or you can run 3/4 of it and walk the rest and ignore the timing. 

I could not even look at him.  I just nodded grimly and started jogging when MK did.  I was trying to breathe deep and not burst into tears.

Forest jogged with us and kept up a steady stream of chatter, and after the first set, said, "Slow your pace down a bit and that will help you.  Stick with MK."

The last lap MK and I encouraged Forest to tell us about all his bad runs and had us laughing out loud when he shared a friend of his wanted to win during a workout so badly he shoved him into a trash can as they were running.

It made me feel better knowing that even great runners have horrid days.

We did six laps in all (eight if you count the warm up and cool down) and the track is 400 meters.  And I actually DID it, and felt all sweaty and gross and awesome afterwards.

And Forest could not HELP but smirk, "And here you thought you couldn't do it."