I did something I’ve wanted to do for over a year now. Something I haven’t done because I’ve been too scared.
I signed up for a 5K. The Shamrock 5K to be exact.
Now, I don’t run. Never have. My cardio consists of “running” on the elliptical and walking on the treadmill. Sometime in October, my roommate at the time convinced me to run with her. “Just a mile,” she said. “You can do it.” I hemmed and I hawed. I tried to talk my way out of it, using CF as my main excuse.
But eventually I thought, What the heck. It can’t hurt. (Besides, I was curious to see what would happen. Cystic fibrosis has always been the main thing holding me back from trying. I figured that someone with a lung disease wouldn’t be able to run.)
So I did. And after a couple blocks I wanted to die. So I walked a block. Then I ran a couple. And wanted to die. I repeated that for a about a mile. At which point I declared I couldn’t go any further and went home.
But I felt GREAT. I was on cloud nine. I had RUN a MILE, something I thought I could never do.
Then winter set in and running outside, especially for me (breathing in very cold air can be difficult), became impossible. And I haven’t run again since.
And then on Tuesday, in response to one of Kim’s tweets, I mentioned that I’d always wanted to run a 5K but didn’t think I could.
I’m nervous. Petrified is more like it. I probably should have started training… oh like last month, maybe? (What if I have to walk? What if I have a coughing attack in the middle of the race? What if I embarrass myself? What if I don’t finish?) But along with the butterflies in my stomach and the million worries running through my head, I’m excited.
Because if when I cross that finish line, it will be one of the proudest moments of my life.