I’m just in it for the participation medal

If I could run as fast as my nose, tights, and eyeliner, I’d be taking home more than participation medals at local races. Yes, that’s an actual thought formed while struggling through my first mile on the Sinnissippi bike path. Don’t be impressed: when I say “my first mile,” there was only one more to follow.
I’m training for Rockford’s Tough Mudder. I don’t know how I’m going to push through 12+ miles with obstacles when I trip walking up the stairs, but I’m going to try. I started a local team, but I guarantee that will be the only time I will be leading the charge. I average a 12 minute mile, which is basically my grandma’s walking speed when she’s trying to use her 30 percent off coupon at Kohls. It’s a determined pace.
I don’t measure my success by the steps I take, it’s the little accomplishments that keep me going. An actual runner waved to me on the bike path! I knew he was the real deal because he was wearing a lime green t-shirt with a former race logo that screamed “yeah, I’ve been doing this since 20-10”. He was a veteran, and to me his wave was more than a “hello” – it signified I was part of something cool, like we were both in it together. Think of it like a “jeep thing,” only he was probably giving a shout-out to the lady in the hot pink headband behind me.
Even my running App is disappointed. I mean come on, you accidentally leave it on ONE time while DRIVING home and all of a sudden Nike thinks you’re inadequate. My future jogs will never compare to that record pace so I re-downloaded it. We’re back on track. No pun intended.
I also get bored. Treadmills make me feel like a hamster on a wheel. A creepy hamster. Where am I supposed to look? Where are the trees and the dogs? I say creepy because I find myself eyeing the screens on other machines like I’m sizing up my competition. My inner voice is impressed with that level ten incline, but not enough for me to rise past this three. It also seems like no matter what “Friends” episode is on directly in front of me, I feel the need to watch SportsCenter on mute three rows ahead. (Such an avid sport’s fan.) Let’s be clear, back to back “Nick at Nite” episodes are the closest thing I’m getting to a “marathon” right now.
Let’s count this as day one. The “Monday” of all training. I’m excited to work toward the big race in May, I just don’t really know what I’m getting into. I’d rather talk the talk than walk the walk…and I likely will be walking. Every time I get a new “Tough Mudder” teammate I’m concerned my intent may be, “Misery loves company”. Here’s to adding an extra mile, impressing my Nike app, and more bike-path waves…one 90’s sitcom at a time.