Fall Run

I just learned a few days ago that my cycling inspiration and friend Maureen, who is a certified instructor at my gym, designed a new exercise class that she is trying to get off the ground called Fall Run. It's basically an outdoor running class to help participants improve their running form and learn new techniques that will hopefully improve skill and endurance. The class meets for 45 minutes two times a week starting today and ends with a 5 Mile Race the day after Thanksgiving that takes place every year in our community.

I'm not really a runner. I do it once in a blue moon when I need to squeeze in a short, productive workout, but I don't really like it so much.

Currently, I can just about run 1.5 to 2 miles without stopping.

A 5 mile race? Maybe she meant a 5K Race.

I googled it. It's a 5 mile race.

When I go for a run, I have to listen to my iPod with the volume high enough to drown out the sound of my own breathing. If I can hear myself panting for breath, I just start thinking about how I'd better stop soon before I can't breathe at all.

So I signed up for the Fall Run class.

LOLOL! Who does that?

I'm seriously having doubts here as the time to meet at the park approaches. Fifteen minutes and counting.

But I'm going to do it and give it my best. I told my family about the class over dinner on Tuesday night and explained what it involves, where and when it meets, how Maureen gently encouraged me and convinced me to try it, and how it ends with participating in the 5 Mile Post-Thanksgiving Race and so on.

My teen daughter finally asked, "So are you doing it?"
I said, "Yeah."
Teen said, "Really?" with a smile growing on her face.
I said, "Yeah. I'm already signed up. The first session is Thursday morning."
Teen said, "Wow!"
Not really sure if she was more shocked and maybe downright flabbergasted that I signed up for a running class of all things, and maybe doubting myself a bit, I said, "What? You don't think I should have?"
Teen said, "No! It's great that your doing it. You're so brave."

Brave. How often does someone tell you they think you're brave? Let me tell you, when your teenager tells you she thinks you're brave, it is pretty powerful.

She's proud of me and thinks me brave for putting myself out there and trying to do something--get better at something, that she knows and I know, I'm not really very good at, but would like to better. It's the exact thing I try to instill in both my daughters every day. But coming from my own daughter? I'm not sure why that struck me so hard, but it was pretty empowering. I'm holding on to that thought . . .