I am not a runner!

And yet, for the past eight weeks, I’ve been getting up at the crack of dawn most mornings and jogging (slowly) along the Potomac River.

I’m training for the Cherry Blossom 10 miler, in Washington, DC. There is nothing more glorious than running under the cherry blossoms for ten miles, or so I imagine. I’ve never run a race this distance before, so any conjectures I may have about the actual experience, are well, conjectures. Still, the cherry blossoms are breathtaking and I’m looking forward to experiencing them in a different way.

It has been about eight years, a wedding, three moves and two babies since my last 10k. Let’s just say, it was something from my single days, and even then, I didn’t classify myself as a runner.

I fell into running back when I was living in NYC, because so many of the people I knew spent their time running around Central Park. Each November, I’d walk down to the end of my block and cheer for the thousands who were running the NYC Marathon, and get goose bumps. ‘I want to do that someday,’ I thought. The thing is, I’ve never enjoyed running. Ignoring that little fact, I threw my name in the NYC Marathon lottery thinking, they’ll never pick me. But they did.

And so my training began. I followed the schedule for beginners, and simply ignored the fine print about the “base” I should have acquired prior to the official start of training. After about two weeks, I hobbled into my office with a slew of injuries. Thank god I worked with such fine physical therapists – they had me back out on my feet quickly.

Next, I found a training partner who was my speed. The only problem: she did not talk and for me, that was torture. Music didn’t help either. At the end of each song, I’d think, ‘that was only three minutes?’ I felt like I’ve been running for at least ten minutes. Then I found friends who talked and made the time fly, except they were too fast for me, and in trying to keep up with them, I injured myself further. My physical therapists put me back together again, but at this point, my morale was low and it was hot – ‘I’m just not a runner,’ I thought. And so I quit.

Two years later, a close friend (who is also an Ironman triathlete) took me to a trail near our home and encouraged me to jog with her. Me, jogging with a triathlete? Clearly she was crazy.

“I’m not a runner, I told her. Besides, it hurts and I always seem to injure myself.” My wise and fit friend was not going to fall for any excuses. “The first 20 minutes always feel uncomfortable, but if you can get past that, you’ll see, you’ll have a breakthrough. It’s uncomfortable for me for the first 20 minutes.” And so we began. Step by step.

She wasn’t concerned about miles, or our pace; she just wanted us out there for as many minutes as I could go. She encouraged me, and this gave me confidence to keep running longer and longer, which in turn made me stronger and fitter. Three times a week for 60 minutes, we ran along the Hudson River. She was the perfect running partner, each time she pushed me to go a little faster AND she talked! While we ran we discussed everything from her father’s illness and passing to all the other issues we confronted on daily basis. We talked about the future and shared business ideas – it felt like life was so full of possibility during each run. Exercise, therapy and social support all wrapped up into one little hour. Some days were easy and others were tough. Still, I pressed on.

Shortly before my marriage, I moved to DC. Without my partner, my running routine sputtered and died. ‘I’m not a runner after all, I thought.’

Eight mindless years at the gym on the elliptical or in spinning class (I tried, I really did, but couldn’t get into riding a bike in the gym with all those sweaty people), I found myself back where I started. I was not fit, I was not motivated and I missed the “flow” I used to feel during and after our runs along the Hudson River.

And then one day in early December 2012, I had the wild idea to sign up for the Cherry Blossom Ten miler.

Eight weeks ago, when I started the beginner’s training program, I could not jog for more than a minute without feeling winded. This morning I ran for 80 minutes, without stopping. Surprisingly, I feel pretty good right now. We’ll see tomorrow.

Most mornings, I’m up, all alone running along my street, staring at the river. It is so beautiful to watch the sun come up over the Potomac River and listen to the birds chirp. I love being outside, even on the coldest days.

It has not been easy. My 17 month old has not been sleeping well, it has been cold, and running feels hard to me. Still, I get out there. After each run, I feel such a sense of accomplishment – ‘I finished today’s run and did not keel over in the street!’

Running along the Potomac River reminds me of my runs along the Hudson River with my friend. Those Hudson River runs have been a foundation for me – I did it before, I can do it today. The difference this time is that I’m alone – there is no one there to make me go run, distract me, encourage me, and cheer for me. I’m alone with my thoughts, my breath and the chirping birds. The strange thing is, I find myself looking forward to that time running along the river, even if a part of me is also dreading it.

Step by step and day by day, I’m starting to reconsider things. Maybe I am a runner after all.