Friday, October 5, 2012


10:39 that was my pace per mile yesterday.

I can't tell you how happy I am about that. Or how strange the pride I feel about that pace is to me. 

Once upon a time... just two years ago. I would have never shared that information. I certainly wouldn't have felt pride over it.

For years I dreamed of being a runner. I worked my way from barely and I mean a paramedic ride away  finishing a mile. To running 6-10 miles on a Sunday morning for fun (before you get all stabby on my seemingly gloaty ass). It took years (like 7 or 8) of me running every other morning, being humiliated as I was lapped by senior citizens (not an exaggeration), not drinking any alcohol (biggest sacrifice EVER) and of giving up and starting over. Always just a little better than the time before.

I got better and faster. Eventually running an avg. of 8:08 min per mile pace. I set a goal of running my first half marathon at this pace (no 5k or 10ks for me), but I had only ever run seven miles at a time. A trainer I met at the track told me that I could run the 13.1 miles no problem, if I just slowed my pace. Say 10 min per mile. Did I sign up that day? You may wonder.

HELL NO! I can be a tad competitive. I had to smoke as many skinny bitches and more importantly stupid guys that think because I'm a girl, I can't be a competitor, as possible. So I decided that I would wait another year.

Then I got injured.

It hurt just to walk.

I was afraid to run.

But something had happened to me over the years. I wasn't just running to lose weight, or to prove to myself I could be one of those girls I had always envied. I had grown to LOVE running. I missed it fiercely.My body and heart ached to be on the track, but my mind said "One step and the pain will shoot through your body and you'll KNOW your worst fear (you'll never run again) has come true". I couldn't handle that possibility, so I didn't even try.

Born To Run hit the book stands and I devoured it. By the end Scott Jurek's mantra "the strong get stronger"   became my own. I knew I could do it. And I did. When the local 1/2 was 3 months away I was only running 3 miles at time. I signed up anyway. I finished the race 2:13:43. For those of you not gifted in math, it was not the time I wanted. But it didn't matter I had finished the race. I ran every step. It was amazing. I was more hooked than ever.

A few short months later I was just 12 seconds shy of getting my avg back and running 6-10 miles at a time because I felt like it. Because I could. Because it felt great.

Then it happened.

I got knocked up.

I ran till week 30. Cried when the gun when off on race day last year and I wasn't among the runners. I was excited for this year though. I just knew I would be back pounding the asphalt as I waved to my son who would be watching with daddy from the sidelines.

Fast Foward to 9 1/2 months later, and my son was waking up more than a new born. I had never been more exhausted in my life. I had probably run 10 miles since his birth and looked it. Worse I felt it.

Finally we buckled down and did the sleep training thing. I've been running again for 6 weeks. I'm up to 3.19 miles at 10:39! Four miles is just around the corner. Then five. Once you hit five (it has been my experience) you can run any distance you want. And the speed will come with practice.

And 10:39 is gonna get me there.

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