I am not a runner.

Why would I write a blog about running if I am not a runner?  Because I run 3-4x/week.  I am not sure whether this will make sense to anyone but me (which is probably not a great statement to make in the first paragraph of a new blog), but I don't know if I will ever be able to state, "I am a runner," without feeling like a liar.  

So here's my back story so you might understand why. 6 months ago, my hobbies were: reading, journaling, playing video games, playing board games, and watching lots and lots of television.  Notice a trend? All of my favorite things in life I could do from the comfort of my wonderful reclining sofa.  Oh. and eating. I love eating.  I use food to celebrate, to cure boredom, to feel better when I'm sad, and as an excuse to see friends or family.  

My love of eating combined with my sloth-like existence shockingly made me gain weight. I know, right? The world is a cruel and unfair place.  At 5 feet 2 inches, 175 lbs, I thought to myself, "Self. Get your shit together. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."  But, I ignored myself, because it sounded too hard to lose weight.  At 186lbs, it was getting a bit harder to ignore the obvious. I thought to myself, "Self. Seriously. Get your shit together!" And for some reason I decided to listen.  Maybe it was the fact that I had just gone up yet another dress size.  

I joined Weight Watchers in the fall of 2012.  Still not ready to exercise, because I was too embarrassed to be the chunky girl at the gym, but eating much better.  By New Years 2013, I was down 20lbs and I decided that it was time I made a New Years resolution (an unprecedented occurrence as far as I can remember) to participate in light exercise 2-3x per week.  Then I got bored.  Walking is boring.  So I decided to try running a little bit on the treadmill to decrease boredom and increase the chances that I would stick to my resolution.  

.25 miles on the treadmill killed me. My lungs burned, my head pounded, my legs hurt, I found myself coughing as though I had bronchitis.  But I kept going.  When I told my brother that I had started exercising, he invited me to run a 10K with him.  I laughed in his face.  A 10K?!  Not going to happen. A 5K sounded more reasonable, but still unlikely.

Flash forward to today. June 16, 2013.  I have now run in four 5K races and two 10K races.  I am training for a half marathon.

I thought running was impossible. I thought, "I'm too fat for that," and "I'm not built like a runner," and "Nobody wants to see me fall on my face."  Now I think, "Holy crap, I just ran 6 miles. And I didn't die.  And I don't even feel like I am going to die.  Maybe pass out. But not die."  

Oh...and I have only missed my exercise at least 2x/week goal twice so far this year, and I was sick both times, so I'll forgive myself.  I'm currently down 39lbs too, which makes running a bit easier. 

I have this idea in my head (that may be very wrong) that to be a runner, you have to find it effortless.  A runner is confident that if they run 4 miles from home, they will make it back without having to hitchhike.  A runner is tall and slender. A runner doesn't love pizza as much I love pizza and a runner certainly doesn't eat pizza as much as I eat pizza. 

So I don't feel comfortable saying that I am a runner and I may never feel comfortable doing so.

But I am someone who has learned to love running. And I hope that this passion stays with me...and I hope to share this passion with others. I plan to share my ups and downs as I train for my half marathon (August 17th), product reviews, and tips from a new runner for other new runners.