It's not how you start, it's how you finish

My running journey started in August 2008 when my mother convinced me to run a 5k with her.  I had never been good at running, so I never did it.  Ergo, I was horrible at it.  How does someone who hates running get conned into participating in a running race?  My mom, being the expert salesman that she is, explained to me that running the race would be a good workout which would help me keep my figure for the wedding dress I would need to fit into that November.  I have to hand it to her, she was good.  She knew just how to sell it, and I bought the whole thing.  That run was the most horrible run I have ever done, but I did learn that I was capable of more than what I thought.

A friend ran the race with my mom and me, and she is 5'10 which is about 9 inches taller than I am.  I had no concept of strides, or how they can be manipulated by how long a person's legs are, so I stupidly did my best to keep pace with her for the first mile.  I didn't even make it the whole mile before I was so winded that I completely stopped running.  To even have to type those words burns me to my core.  I am a huge believer in the fact that you can run as slow as you walk, so there is NEVER an excuse to stop and walk.  In that respect I failed myself right from the start.  My friend ran ahead and she too eventually stopped because she wasn't a big runner either.

Later in the race, my mom kept hounding me to stop and walk then randomly sprint to the nearest stop sign or mailbox or whatever she could pick that was far enough away to challenge me.  Even though it was only a 5k, that run was more challenging than any half marathon or other run I've ever done.  I owe my mom for continuing to push me even though at the time I thought she was the most annoying person on the planet!

Most of all from that run I remember her words as we came up to probably the last .3 miles.  It was a straight shot down a main street in town, and she said, "You don't want to cross the finish line with people seeing you walk.  We want to run across it!"  I pulled every last ounce of energy, oomph, and gusto from who knows where, and I sprinted my little heart out all the way to and across that finish line.  It was a proud moment for the first 10 seconds as the realization that I had finished the race set in, but immediately following was the feeling that I was going to be sick.  I looked for a trashcan and thankfully calmed my body down enough that I didn't need to utilize it.  I had pushed my body a little too much that morning, but I knew that I was capable of much more than I was pushing myself to do.

I will always remember that run as the most horrible run I ever did, but I will also remember that I had finished and survived it.  Would it have been better if I'd been more prepared? Yes, but I know myself, and I never would've gone out and trained for that run on my own.

It's not how you start, it's how you finish!

My running journey is still continuing, and know I have a long way to go.  Tell me about the story of your first run!