Beginnings

I have never been a runner. I've never seen a point to running when you can just walk or, better yet, drive to places you need to go. In high school, the only thing that prevented me from getting the Presidential Fitness Award was the shuttle run. Admittedly, I might still be a little bitter about that... after all, who doesn't want a piece of paper saying that Bill Clinton thinks you're fit? But I've always rationalized it by thinking, some people are just made to run, and others are not. I'm not a long, lithe, willowy runner. My best sport is ... flipcup. As long as I can down a quarter-cup of beer and upend the cup in record time, who needs to be able to run 10 miles?

Until today. I've signed up for the Cherry Blossom 10-miler on April 1st. I have less than 3.5 months to go from running to first base in a kickball game to running 10 miles in less than 2 hours, 20 minutes. This means actually making use of my gym membership, going to the treadmill after work instead of going to happy hour, and buying really cute running clothes. I can't even run a mile without stopping. So I'm scared.

The good part is, I'm not doing this alone. My kickball buddy, Angel, is my partner-in-crime for training for this race. We both have friends who are avid runners; her roommate just completed the Marine Corps marathon, and my roommate once tried to run 50 races in a year (I think he topped out at 15 or so.) But we're both starting from the same point... complete out-of-shapeness. So we've started this blog to chronicle our journey from the kickball playground to the running trail. Let's hope it works...