Photo: Me and Dan finishing the San Jose Muddy Buddy
I was out for a run yesterday when I had an idea for a series of blog pots that would focus on those things that maybe I’ve been keeping to myself… afraid of saying out loud (on line) for fear that you would think I’m weird.
Well, the fact is: I am weird.
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I used to be a runner. I was never really competitive, but I did run in several races through the years, everything from 5Ks to a marathon. My favorite distance was the half marathon, because it didn’t require the insane commitment to training that a full marathon requires but it’s still a challenge. In my de-cluttering efforts I recently ran across a stack of old race bibs and finisher’s medals… including a ribbon for 2nd place in my age group for one 10K.
Between work and life and countless excuses (at the heart of which is pure, unadulterated laziness), I stopped being a runner in 2005. And I gained weight. Then at the end of 2006 I started running again and by early 2007 I was a runner. I make a distinction because to me a runner is someone who needs to run like we all need to breathe. I had lost most of the weight I gained in 2005, I fit into cute clothes, and I was healthy.
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