The first run of my life

Running is unlike any other sport I've ever participated in. You can't just step on the trail after 3 months and expect to run the same pace or distance you left off at. And it won't happen after a week or two either. No - it'll take about 3 months to return to form - depending on how committed you are. In basketball, it takes a few trips down the floor to dust off the cobwebs. In baseball, it takes a few trips to the plate before I could get my timing back. With golf, it takes about 3 to 4 rounds before I get the feeling back in my swing. Bowling - it's like riding a bike. I might throw my best game of my life after a 2 year sabbatical (though it may take a few games to remember how to knock down that sneaky 10 pin).

But this is not the case in running. Just last October I was running about 3 miles - 4 days a week - at a pace of about 7:45/mile. I was best conditioned back in April 2013 at about 7:15/mile. Today -- it was like I had run for the first time in my life. I somehow managed to drag myself around the block three times for a total of 2 miles. My time was 9/mile. Had I mustered up 3, that pace would have soared.

But that's one of the things that makes running so rewarding. You only get back everything you put into it. You're not going to get lucky bounces or infield hits. There's no shortcuts. If you use Michigan's coldest and snowiest winter in memory as an excuse to sit around - gain 15 pounds - and nap yourself out of shape - then guess what - you're starting from scratch. Absolutely every mile run, every vegetable eaten, every good decision made in 2013 is history. It certainly doesn't mean it was for nought. I'm sure there are still a few remnants of health affects or good habits that remain - but as far as training goes, again - today was pretty much the first run of my life.

As hard as it is to start, however, for all the dedication, commitment, healthy diet and sleep decisions... everything you put into running pays off in dividends. No run is a bad run - that's for sure, but nothing beats the great feeling of daily improvement in running; of getting more into shape - and the inevitable weight loss along the way, as you slowly, painfully accomplish your goals of length and pace, which at times happens exponentially in the first few months. For me, the first obstacle is simply being able to run my 3-mile track. (it's actually 2.85, but whose measuring). Then I get obsessed with hitting those pace goals of 8:30, 8, even 7:30mph - if everything goes well.

 Some weeks I might not improve at all, but there will certainly be a run here in there in the beginning when I'll come in a full minute ahead of the run from the previous day. That's one of the many incredible feelings I look forward to in 2014. It's something I thought about in the last half-mile of my little jog today. I often have to dig deep down to finish any run - even when it gets easier to finish. Later on - when I start running official 5K events, I will picture myself finishing at an amazing pace, maybe even a medal pace. Yes,sometimes it requires a little fantasy to push me to the finish line. But whatever works...

Winning a medal was my ultimate goal in 2013. It might seem a little childish, but I've never received a running medal, and it's something I desperately want to win. Each event I see adults and children winning em' like it's a little notch on their belt. I've never seen anyone that jubilant about getting their name called. Just wait till they call mine. I don't expect to cry tears of joy or anything - but they'll all know how much it means

That is my goal again this year. In 2014 - I want to win a running medal - and I really don't care what color. It's what it symbolizes that's important. It'll stand for months and months of running and exercise. It'll stands for every cookie or donut I'll pass up. It'll stand for those days when I only have about 25 minutes of free time, and instead of watching a TV episode or playing piano eating bowl of chips, I'll sneak in my 3 miles (and hopefully a quick shower).

The best part is - Even if I fail again - and never win my medal, I'll still experience the mini victories for each 5K I race, each improvement I make, and each pound I shed. I'll still feel good about myself. I'll inspire my 4-yr old daughter to run as well, and the benefits go on and on.

There will be some rough times as well; some knee pains; long running droughts, self doubt, and this year I plan to share the entire experience - the good and the bad: the improved times, the frustrating moments, the 5K events, the little victories, and hopefully - the ultimate one - a shiny, bronze running medal.