I ran my first 10k last weekend. And by “ran” I mean, I pushed on for the first 5k and then about died the next 5. I came in last place… but I still finished. My dripping, heaving, beet-red self jogged over that finish line like it was nobody’s business.
Yet even though I was proud of completing this new challenge, I was a bit embarrassed. I mean, I call myself a runner and here I am, not training on a daily basis, eating horribly, and almost killing myself (figuratively, of course) by not being prepared for a race I paid to run. Heed the wake up call!