I am not a runner.

This year, Luke has been participating in Running Club at his elementary school.  He really needed some running training because he looks like an awkward girl on the soccer fields.  He's been pretty good at it and even asks to go running with me.  (Yes, I run on ocassion, but I am not a "runner").  He has running club meetings three days a week for one hour directly after school.  Sometimes, I even volunteer to help because the crazy SAHM inside of me is apparently fighting to get out.  So, this weekend the club ran the Cowtown Marathon 5K together.  It was so fun!  Chuck and I both ran with Luke, who is a bit of a pansy and kept wanting to take breaks.  He even beggeed me beforehand to buy him a camelback because he says he gets a dry throat when he runs.

Before Luke signed up for running club, I had already signed up to run the 10K in the Cowtown. This is really quite a challenge for me.  It is approximately 6 miles and the last time I had run 6 miles was a year ago when I was training for the Cowtown half but my training was interrupted by trial.  This year, I knew I could at least do the 10K since I was going to start training in January.  But of course, there's always a wrench thrown into my plans.  And this year that wrench was a case of tendonitis in my right foot.  It is pretty debilitating and I couldn't even jog a few feet for about 2 1/2 weeks.  Then when I was able to run without pain again, I was scared to.  I was so afraid I was going to reinjure myself.   For several weeks before the race, I resigned myself to just running the 5K with Luke and Chuck, certain that my injury could handle it and I could get through the entire thing.

But, a few days before the race Chuck convinced me to run the 10K to push myself harder than I had been doing.  So, with really very little training, I tackled the 10K last Saturday morning at 7:00 a.m.  And it was COLD.  In the 30s.  Apparently, this is a good temperature for real runners.  Good for them.  It was effing cold for me.  But, in the end, I crossed the finish line and even ran the six miles with only a few walking breaks.  As I continue to emphasize, I am not a runner, so I was super proud when I managed a time of 12 minute miles for the whole thing.  That's my typical jogging pace, so I was proud I could keep it up.  Remember, I am NOT a runner. So no making fun of me.

After a beer and a cup of yogurt, I trudged to my car to get my shirt for the elementary school running club so I could support Luke and Chuck.  When they finally arrived, I was already starting to get stiff, but I had my medal to keep me happy.  Unfortunately, Luke still expected wanted me to run with him and Chuck in the 5K.  I like to think I'm a bad-ass, but I'm pretty sure this was a mistake.  Although I was suckered into running the 5K with them, I totally walked the last 3/4 mile.  I just couldn't go much more. 

So, even though I traversed 9 miles Saturday morning, it was not a pretty sight.  And the rest of the day I looked like an old woman hobbled up with rheumetism.  I'm better now and finally went for a jog again today.  I'm back on the horse.  Now, I'm ready to sign up for my next race.  Either another 10K or a half.  I'm open to suggestions.