RUN LIKE HELL
Me and Betsy after a 4 mile run
My journey from professional couch potato to The Flash
Confession time: the last time I ran a mile was back in high school when the closest I came to cardio was chasing after a soccer ball. I’ve always loved playing soccer, but hated the running part (a bit of a conflict of interest). If anything, high school soccer only reinforced my dislike for running, turning it from a mild annoyance into a full-blown grudge.
Our coach had a unique approach: instead of working on strategy or smart plays, we’d always start practice by running 8-10 laps around the field before we even thought about stretching. Then, we’d run suicides across the field under the hot North Carolina sun. Afterward, we’d play scrimmage games before diving into intense footwork exercises. No surprise that injuries were practically its own team sport–girls were constantly sidelined with torn ACLs, sprained ankles, and asthma attacks. By the time game day rolled around, half of us were on the bench recovering from practice, which didn’t help our performance. So, yeah, high school soccer gave me a very good reason to despise running.
Flash forward to this past Christmas, the Tar Heel 10-Miler race started calling my name, for whatever reason I don’t know. Inspired by my dad, who once crossed the finish line of a marathon and the Tar Heel 10-miler (three times), I’ve decided to give running another shot. Spoiler alert: my body is not thrilled with this decision. My shin splints have returned with a raging passion for revenge. But, with determination and a pair of shoes that still need some breaking-in, I’m aiming to get my mile time down to under 10 minutes and check this race off my bucket list–preferably without a visit to the ER.
What sealed the deal for me was the fact that a bunch of my friends decided to sign up for the race too. Some of them are legit runners who do the race every year, while others decided to give it a go without being serious runners, just like me. I did my homework, asked my runner friends for tips, splurged on a decent pair of running shoes (because apparently, there’s a difference), created a training plan, and signed up for the race–because nothing says commitment like paying an obscene amount of money to run in a circle. No turning back now!
I made myself a plan: run three days a week, hit the gym two days, and rest on the other two days. Simple! My goal was to slowly ramp up my endurance so that by April, I’d be ready to tackle the 10-mile race. By the end of January, I aimed for a comfortable 4 miles, 6 miles by February, 8 by March, and 10 by race day. To keep me in check, I downloaded Strava, which is basically Instagram for runners, so now I can track my progress and stalk my friends to see if they’re slacking (they’re doing better than me).
I kicked off my running journey after Christmas break with my friends Betsy and Lindsay. We started with a chill mile and a half on the trail behind my house. During the first few weeks of my training in January, my goal was to run a comfortable mile without walking. I was always told that running the first mile or two is always the hardest, so I’d be sure not to push myself too hard. Then, about a week ago, I went for a run while listening to a podcast and got so distracted that I didn’t even realize I had just run 1.5 miles straight–no stopping, no heart rate spike. A huge win in my book! My pace was around 11 minutes per mile, but I was just thrilled to hit my goal. So, I kept going. By the time I hit 2 miles, I was still feeling great. I pushed a little further and ended up running a full 5K in under 30 minutes. I was starting to get the hang of it.
Sticking to a routine is easier said than done, especially with North Carolina’s unpredictable weather, a mountain of schoolwork demanding my attention, or—most recently—an unfortunate RSV exposure that’s left my lungs and sinuses full of gunk. But even with these setbacks, I make it a priority to run or hit the gym whenever I can, knowing that consistency is key.
Fast forward to the end of February, and I can officially say I’ve hit my 6-mile goal—comfortably, even. If you had told my high school self that I’d willingly run this far without a soccer ball involved, she would have laughed (or cried). But here I am, lacing up my shoes, hitting the pavement, and actually enjoying it.
Of course, the work doesn’t stop here. With the Tar Heel 10-Miler creeping closer, I’ve got my sights set on 8 miles next month, then the full 10 by race day. I know there will be tough runs, days when my legs feel like lead, and moments of doubt, but if I’ve learned anything so far, it’s that progress happens when you show up. So, here’s to pushing forward, keeping the momentum, and proving to myself that the girl who once hated running is now a runner.
