Run Like A Mother

Today while waiting for my oldest at the orthodontist I decided to start reading one of my Christmas presents.

I've gotten about 3 chapters into it and I feel a motivation I haven't felt in quite a while.  I've been wanting/thinking/planning to start running for about...hmmm...I guess 2 years now.  I know, lame.  I bought shoes and the whole runner's outfit and even an iPod armband.  I was prepared, but I never quite followed through.  Oh I went out a few times, but then I did something to my hip that caused me great pain and needless to say lack of motivation.  So I haven't been running since.

But when I think about being a runner -- and all the discipline, sweat, and physical benefits it brings with it -- I want to be one.  To say, "yeah, I'm a runner" -- like it's a badge of honor, an earned title, part of an identity.  You can't say that unless you, like, run frequently.  You can't say that if you run once every 6 months.  To say "I'm a runner" means you have a certain level of discipline that gets you out of bed at 5:30 in the morning, or determination that pushes you to put your running shoes on after a day at work.  Frequently.  

The book is written by two women who run together.  One of them writes this:

"I don't doubt myself in tough situations because I am a runner.  I feel almost invincible because I'm a runner.  I have amazing friends...because I'm a runner.  I have the guts to set seemingly impossible goals and then methodically work toward them because I'm a runner... I know how to keep on keeping on, even when I'm sure I've got nothing left to give, because I'm a runner."

This alone makes me want to be a runner.  Even if I never told anybody about my mad discipline skills, just to feel the empowerment she describes would be worth all of it.

I'm going to run.