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    Running Away

    By SpaceCase | December 9, 2004

    Today’s 25 in 2005 entry is:

    9.  Enter and run a 5k race

    Here’s the logic behind this particular entry.

    Yesterday morning, I climbed the stairs at the eL instead of taking the escalator like I normally do.  I had someone walking up them right behind me, and I could sense that they were in a bit more of a hurry than I was.  Why? I’m not sure, as there was no train coming.  It was just a general "I must get to the top of the stairs as quickly as possible so I can stand there and wait for the train that isn’t even close to arriving."  Whatever.  But I quickened my pace a bit nonetheless.

    Anyway, when I arrived at the top of the steps, I stopped to catch my breath.  Only I couldn’t.  Then I started to get that kind of sweaty feeling I get whenever I’m about to get light-headed and faintish.  So I took off my hat and unbuttoned my coat and unwound my scarf from around my neck.  But I still had that quick heartrate/sweaty neck/pounding head feeling that comes right before passing out.  Luckily, I didn’t faint, the train arrived, and I found a seat and pulled myself together just fine.

    Now there are a lot of reasons I probably felt this way.  Not enough breakfast, not enough sleep, general life stress ramping up over the last few weeks, not exercising enough, etc.  But come on – getting that out of breath climbing the stairs to the eL?  That is so not good, SpaceCase.  Not good at all.

    So, I figure it’s time to focus on getting into shape.  So I’m setting a difficult but not unreasonable goal to run a 5k sometime next year.  And by run I mean jog or run, not walk. This is going to be a challenge, because I’ve never entered a race before.  I don’t even know where to sign up.  Or if it costs money.  Or how to pin on those number jersey things.  It’s all so completely foreign to me, that just the logistics of entering are going to be new and exciting.

    The other challenge?  I do not run.  Seriously.  I am a great fast-walker, and when I exercise outside or on the treadmill, I usually do a very, very fast walk and sweat and burn calories and generally do well with the walking.  I cannot run, though.  I think it’s because I’m an "exerciser," but not an "athlete."

    Looking back at my life, I realize I was never really built to be an athlete.  When I was a wee-one, I rode my bike for hours at a time, played tag and kick the can and hide & seek with the best of them.  But I was also an avid reader, and TV watcher.  So if the running around playing wasn’t fun anymore, I had other fun ways to spend my time.

    As I got a little older, I took dance and gymnastics lessons.  I was a pretty good dancer, a pretty OK gymnast, but knew that neither one was a real passion.  But I liked getting my body to move in new exciting ways.  Plus, I was a really good mimic, and could duplicate almost any dance step anyone showed me.  Again, the fun factor was very high.  But other pursuits took up time as I got older, and I stopped these lessons when I was a teenager.

    By the time I was in junior high and high school, all of the fun had been worn off of athletic pursuits.  Being picked last in gym class (most likely due to shyness and "brain" status) didn’t help matters.  The Presidential Fitness Test was just an embarrassment – I never did well, ever.  Each year it was the dreaded section of Phys Ed, mostly because it was turned into some sort of strange competition.  Plus, the mile run – was it a mile run?  mile and a half? whatever – was a joke to me.  Why run a mile and a half in a circle around a track?  Especially since I knew I wasn’t getting the dumb medal anyway due to my poor hanging-from-the-bar score.  So I walked.

    My brother P was a track athlete, and I used to go to his track meets with my dad.  I remember my dad bringing me to the outdoor track and teaching me how to sprint, how do kneel down at the starting line for the best start, timing me on some sprints.  It was fun, and I liked the feeling of sprinting, of pushing my legs so fast underneath my I felt like I was flying.  But it wasn’t enough to make me want to do it more than as a fun thing with Dad every once in a while.

    I still will break into a sprint sometimes on the end of my walk.  Ususally it’s a way to reward myself and end the walk early.  "OK, I wanted to make 4 trips around the park, and so if I sprint to the fire hydrant, my four laps will be done that much quicker."  I still like that feeling of sprinting, but still haven’t caught the fever for running or jogging.

    So maybe setting myself up for a 5k will do something to motivate me.  Maybe it’s time to push myself to the next level.  Maybe all I need is better sneakers.  I don’t know.  But I think it’s time I find out.  I mean, I got faint walking up the stairs to the eL.  Next time I might be falling face first onto the tracks and looking like that poor pigeon who didn’t hop off the third rail in time.  Scary.

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