I started running early this year, as I had signed up for a 5k race in April in a fit of  joiner-ism and wanted to finish it without completely embarrassing myself.  After the race itself, in April, I thought I would stop running- it’s fairly high impact exercise, and I could burn calories other ways, so why keep on with something like that when I could bike or walk or do the elliptical or the arc trainer!

So I didn’t run for a while.  I did a lot of walking and so on through the late spring and summer.  But late in the summer, on a hot and humid day, I decided to go for a run.

And you know what?  I love running.

It’s hard, and it can hurt and I’m not good at it.  I get horribly sweaty and I jiggle.  But I love it.  No other exercise seems to give me quite the same satisfaction as a good hard long run.   I feel exhilarated afterward.  I feel like I’ve accomplished something.  It seems to chill me out.

I signed up for another 5k race in October, and was 4 minutes faster than my April time.  I’m a lot faster already than I was when I started- I’ve gone from a 13 minute mile to a 9:30 mile.  Not superhero- or athlete- fast, but pretty fast for me!  I’ve been running 8k regularly at the gym (on the days I do weights, with cross-training and yoga on other days).  I’m thinking about building up to a 10k race at some point next year.

So I guess I’m a runner, then.  Weird.