I can't believe it- I actually ran a 5K! (Well, mostly ran). I absolutely DESPISE running with a white-hot passion. However, I want to be a runner. Isn't that weird? My friend Kim, is totally my inspiration. This girl is the ONLY other female that understands the love of food that I have, because she shares it as well. We have been friend since kindergarten, and she has always been the most driven person I know. Kim does crazy things like full marathons, and triathelons. And wins. So imagine how I felt when she asked me to run the 5K that our hometown was putting on for the yearly festival. How does one say no to a mere 3 mile run when this girl runs almost 30 straight? You can't back out of that without looking like a TOTAL sissy. And I have been meaning to do it... so I said yes.
I longed for death about a block and a half into the run. And Kim, God bless her, stuck with me the whole way, even though she could have finished in half the time it took me. She kept saying things like, "Ok, we can walk now, but when we get to that sign, we need to start running again." I could barely hear her over my exploding lungs. Sometimes Kim would suggest outrageous things like, "Let's run until the curve in the road, then take a walk break." As much as I wanted to protest, I was breathing too hard to talk. I would whimper and try not to cry. The great thing is that she wasn't super chipper about it all; there was none of the annoying, "Only two more miles to go! Isn't that great?! You're doing swell!" She was simply supportive and consistent. My favorite memory of the run was toward the end; we could almost see the finish line- I had hoped to not take another walk break on the last stretch, but I simply could not run any further. I gasped, "I have to walk or I'll puke," and certainly expected some sympathy. Kim quickly retorted, "You can puke at the finish line, let's go!" I laughed on the inside.
At the finish line, there was a man giving people fives. He just stood there with his hand sticking out, letting people smack his hand on the way by. He was saying generic things like, "Good job," and "Way to go." However, when I lumbered across the finish line, his eyes bugged out and he said, "Are you ok?!" and reached out to support me in case I fell. Apparently it was quite obvious that I was struggling. I suppose my bright red face and lolling tongue gave that away. Still, I wanted to punch him.
What would I have done without Kim? I would have quit. I would have walked the majority of the race, and not felt bad about it at all. I would have thought, "At least I'm getting 3 miles of walking as exercise, that's great!" I probably would have been rather proud of myself just for showing up. Instead, as I gasped and heaved for breath after I crossed the finish line, trying not to vomit, I suddenly realized... "I DID IT! I actually DID IT!" It was totally Kim that kept me going- she is the reason that I can be so proud of myself and say that I accomplished this goal. Thank God for awesome friends!
