The Club

I have always been an active person. As a child, I was schlepped to countless dance classes, swimming practices, and other various athletic activities that kept me busy and active. Graduating from college marked the end of my organized athletic activity. Like other young twenty-somethings, I was left to my own devices to counteract the sitting I did every day at work, and the boozing I did every weekend in order to not end up the size of a house.

Being left to my own devices, I jumped into Boston's organized exercise scene with an assortment of dance classes, bootcamps, and whatever other fads caught my eye. While practicing the latest African dancing craze was fun and for the most part, extremely effective, it was also extremely unkind on my wallet. It took me years to realize that my expensive, and often times sporadic exercise schedule was simply not working.

Where did that leave me? Well, it left me with the one thing that I did not want to do--run. I was not a runner. Running the mile in high school every year was a despised activity, and I only participated in sports where running was scant or non-existent. I scoffed at the thought of running, convincing myself that I lacked the running gene. And when you live in an active city like Boston, running is everywhere. No need to go to a bar to meet a member of the opposite sex, just go running around the Charles at about 6:00 PM on a Thursday night where you'll find most of the eligible men/women in the city.

To me, runners were smug. It's like they all knew something that I didn't. They were better looking, smarter and richer. (Okay, maybe not but you get the idea). They bugged me with their free and efficient form of exercise. It was as if they were in a club, and I was not invited. And truthfully, I did not want to be a part of that. Okay that's a lie. I desperately wanted to be a part of the club. It was so completely frustrating to me that I did not find enjoyment in the sport. Running was my Mount Everest, and there was no way of getting to the top.

I honestly can't say what changed in me. It was almost like a switch being turned on inside. I just started running. Not thinking, just doing. I started slow, with a few miles here and there. I'm pretty sure a 5 year old could run faster than I was running, but that didn't matter. I was doing it. I was turning into one of those obnoxious people that I used to despise. I would talk about running to people who didn't care, and even went as far as doing the unthinkable--run on a Friday night.

I think I am slowly but surely conquering my Everest. Running no longer feels like a form of torture, and I am consistently increasing my pace/mileage. I've learned to actually enjoy the time spent pounding the pavement around the Charles, (especially on Thursday nights at 6:00 PM). I'm finally part of the club, and it feels good.