A Love Affair . . . or a Running History

This morning I sneaked out the door before Christopher (or anyone else) was awake and went for a long walk. My running shoes are in Utah and I am in Oregon. As I was heading back I started to reminisce. (Once you hit the half century mark you start doing more of this.)

I thought about the first time I went "running." We were living in Walnut Creek, California and Brian (my third baby) was 4 1/2 months old. I was 25 pounds overweight and my baby was more interested in grabbing a pork chop off my dinner plate than in bonding time with me. I was ready to wean the little piker! I had driven around our block a few times and measured it at 1 mile. I thought I could make it around that even if I had to walk part of the way. But how was I going to get out of the house to test my theory?

Then the stars aligned and the moment of truth arrived. Was I serious or not? I watched a friend's little girl while she went for a well-baby check with her newborn. When she came back I decided to call in the favor on the spot and take the plunge. I said, "Could you just stay here with my kids for a few minutes? I have something I want to do." She was willing so I ran to the bedroom and found my Keds (?!). I knew nothing about running shoes.

With excited, nervous energy I started out around the block. I ran as far as I could then walked a few yards and ran again. The whole thing was over and I was back within 15 minutes. But it was a start! Within a month I was getting up in the dark and running three quarters of the way around the block and turning around and running back so that I ran a mile and a half. By the time I got to two miles I had very sore heels and Achilles tendons. I mean Keds! Puh-leeeeze! The thought makes me shudder now.

Barry suggested that I should look for some running shoes if I was really serious about this thing. It wasn't easy but I found a pair of Nikes for women. Women who were running were wearing men's shoes but they were too wide for my 10AA feet.

By this time I also had a partner. I had asked around among the women at church to see if anyone was interested in running. I mostly got vacant looks. But one new move-in named Susan said she had done some running but wasn't currently. I think I badgered her for three weeks until she finally agreed to go with me. We became fast friends. (Not fast runners yet!)

That was February 1979! 30 years later, I still love running. It has been a great love affair.