My Husband Made Me Run
I am surrounded by runners. My cousins, my friends, even my husband; there are runners everywhere I go. For years I have resisted this running craze. I’ve seen the pictures of the 5ks and heard all about long runs through the woods and not once thought I would ever take part. I don’t like running, I hate being winded and recovering from a stitch in my side and burning lungs every time I take a breath. As any real runner will tell you, according to my husband, I was apparently running wrong. Still, years of bad running experiences have a way of sticking with you and I refused to take part, no matter how much my husband insisted it was fun.
Then my mother happened. “There’s this 5k the family does,” she said as we sat in her living room before Easter lunch. “We should all work up to it. I’ll have to ask when it is.” The 5k is in October in my hometown and several families from my dad’s side all participate in it every year. Since our loss in January, I find that I would really like to be closer to my extended family and this is another thing that we could do with them. On top of that, my mom is really into the idea of all working up to it together and taking part in it as a family. My brother’s not so into it, my sister says she will so then it comes to me. Will I do it? I’ll admit it, it’s tempting.
Sunday I told my husband I would get up and run with him if he really wanted to drag me out of bed. As you all know, I don’t like getting out of bed. It is my least favorite thing. That’s why I have a husband. So we skipped Monday after a very active weekend and this morning, he actually did it. He got me out of bed and made me go running. I can tell you right now, I would have wimped out on my own. I would have heard the alarm, rolled over and gone back to sleep. I would have gotten to the couch and stayed there. I wouldn’t have gotten out the door.
Today was an unfortunate day for running. Why you ask? Because it’s wet. This is really my main complaint against today’s run. It was wet and there were puddles and my shoes are not water proof, apparently. I hate wet feet. This is really something I can’t stand. I hate having wet things touching me, especially clothing. I hate when my hair gets the back of my shirt all wet, I have to change every time I get water from the sink on my shirt, and I can’t stand wet socks. This is one of my biggest pet peeves.
So when I looked out our apartment building door and saw all the wet, part of me hoped it was raining mercilessly and we would have to stay inside. I don’t know if my husband would have gone for that or if he would have pushed us on out the door regardless, but it doesn’t matter, because it wasn’t raining, just wet. Out we went and up the slight incline of a hill that is our road. I’m ashamed to say just walking up hill is more than I’m inclined to handle. This is one of the reasons I’ve been so reluctant. Western PA is full of hills, you can’t avoid them. And running on a hill does not sound like a fun time to me.
But we did it and by the end my poor feet were so wet. We went up and down a little side street and back out and up and through a little housing complex and back down to our apartment. It was almost a whole mile. Almost. Which my husband tells me is pretty good for my first run. It was a very slow and kind of sad run, really, and still my lower legs seem unhappy with me. It occurs to me that a bath would feel really good. It also occurs to me that my bubble bath is still at my parents’ house. I also might fall asleep in a bath. Ah well, a shower it is, I guess.
The question now stands, of course, will I make it to the 5k? I can’t honestly say for sure at this point. October is a long way away and my husband tells me that is more than enough time to get ready for a 5k so there’s no reason why I shouldn’t, unless I wimp out somewhere in the middle. Hopefully my next run will be dryer.