My Non Athletic Team

I am not an athlete.  Those of you blog readers who knew me in high school can vouch for me on this.  My position on the HS sport team was bench warmer, my role, “team encourager.” 

When my recent blog friend turned IRL friend accompanied me this weekend to pick up my runners pack for the Pittsburgh Half Marathon and called me athletic, I almost laughed in her face.

Me athletic?

Just because I ran 13.1 miles yesterday, does not make me athletic.  If you heard me whining all afternoon and saw my crazy/gimpy/80 year woman hobble today, you would understand that I am no athlete.

I started running a few years ago b/c I wanted to try to get in shape, lose some of that baby weight, and to feel good about myself.  And while part of me dreams of being able to call myself “a runner” I don’t feel I have yet obtained that status. 

Runners run All.The.Time.  As in up everyday at the butt crack of dawn running.

I run in spurts.  As in, “Oh no that race I signed up for is coming up soon, I better go running this week”. 

Last summer I was pretty good about sticking to my training guide.  I had this goal of running with a local runners club by the end of the summer.  I finally got to the point where I felt I could run with them and then chickened out b/c I didn’t know any of them and didn’t feel like a real runner. 

I am thinking about joining them this month (once I can walk again without wincing) and maybe, maybe after running with them for a few months, I will feel comfortable calling myself a runner.

Scott hates running with a passion.  He does not understand why anyone would want to run just for the sake of running.  He would rather run to hit the racquet ball or catch the Frisbee or throw the football.  He likes to run with a purpose.

Not me.

I do not like any added pressure of catching or throwing anything while I run, thankyouverymuch.  Just let me put one foot in front of the other and count down the miles till my run is done.  No added stunts or tricks please.  No team mates counting on me to perform those added stunts.  No pressure, pressure, pressure. 

Running is all about me.  I set goals for myself and only I can achieve them.  If I fail, I let down only myself.  No team members involved. 

Or at least, so I thought.

But as I ran yesterday, I realized that I do in fact have a team.  Without Scott and the kids willingly supporting me as I take my practice runs, and then coming out and cheering me on for the big race, I couldn’t do it.  I am not in this alone. 

Yesterday as I ran alone in the cool, rainy weather I kept looking forward to the next point in the race when I knew I would see my husband, 3 kids, and my parents cheering for me.  I literally counted down the miles till the next spot where I knew they’d be waiting.  They spurred me on, gave me something to aim for, and helped me run a little faster.  They were my team.  I didn’t want to stop and walk because I wanted to make them proud.  I wanted to finish strong for them. 

I forgot to mention the other reason I run…I really like to get the free tee shirt!  Shallow I know, but I do really love those race day shirts they give you even more so than the finishers medals.