Back to the starting line

Over 12,000 people huffed and puffed at the Times-Colonist 10k this morning. A friend and some people from the running clinic were participating, so I thought I'd go out and cheer them on.

And what a beautiful day it was to race! Excitement was in the air as runners were warming up in the streets of Victoria. There were people with balloons, runners in costumes, and little kids cheering on their parents.

Twelve years ago, I ran this race - my first one. Up until I was 18, I abhorred running. I used pretty much every excuse I could think of to get out of running in gym classes. Running was only slightly more enjoyable than gymnastics (I still hate gymnastics). Still, I always admired runners. There was something about that steely glint in their eye that captured me. In high school, I befriended a runner, and he was the one who encouraged me to start. And the addiction started!

It's amazing to think how little I knew about running back then. I didn't have proper shoes, or clothes, and had no idea about nutrition or injury prevention, or how even how to train for a 10k. No matter. Because I didn't know there was a right way, I wasn't worried that I was doing it the wrong way. The night before, I carb-loaded with a huge plate of spaghetti (which apparently you're not supposed to do anymore) and watched Chariots of Fire. I had butterflies the next morning, but I had a great race. The cheering pumped me up and gave new life to my legs whenever I felt tired. And when I finally saw that finish line, I just couldn't believe that I had done it!

I'm sure there are many people who ran today who have similar stories. They definitely inspired me and reminded me why I run. So, hats off to all who finished today, especially those who finished their first race. Congratulations. You're no longer a jogger - you're a runner.