Running In Red

If you read this blog with any regularity, you know that over the last two years, I've had my share of ups and downs when it comes to running. The biggest problem I have with the sport does not come from shin splints or sore knees but rather good, old-fashioned fear. Fear of injury, fear of failure, fear of believing in myself.

In the last couple of months, I've started following The Bloggess, a hysterically funny blogger who writes irreverent musings on life and Wil Wheaton. She buys giant metal chickens named Beyonce, and her long-suffering husband puts up with her shenanigans. I have been known to sit here at my computer, near tears from laughing at her blog. And then, last week, I was in real tears, reading this post, and later, this one, about her depression and self-harm...and the incredible, moving response the first post got from her readers all over the world. People who get it. People who relate. People who have been saved by finding out, from The Bloggess, that they are not alone.

Today, I found out about a project she's been doing for over a year now, The Traveling Red Dress. The gist of it is that she decided, a while back, to stop worrying about how impractical it was to buy a flashy red evening gown, having no place to wear it...and to just buy the dress and enjoy it. To give herself permission to live. Because, as she said, "I am worth it." The dress, after she enjoyed it, began a journey, traveling from woman to woman to woman, bringing joy, freedom, and LIFE wherever it stopped.

Where am I going with all this?

I have decided that I am sick and tired of letting the bad days get me down. On Thursday, I had my second bad run of the week and texted M. the So-Kind-To-Put-Up-With-Me about my frustration. I was tired. My shins hurt. My confidence was in the gutter. It was my 2nd bad day in one week after the previous week was so great. With two-and-a-half weeks left until my first 5K, I was feeling like I'd never be able to run the whole race, or even half.

Tonight, I've made the decision to let go of all that. I am going to stop caring about times, personal records, and my own always-fluctuating confidence. Two weeks from today I will line up for my first true 5K. I will run. I may not run the whole way. I may run slower than ever. I may set a best time. But I will cross that finish line with a smile on my face, and I will enjoy every minute of that race because every step will bring me closer to realizing my goal of truly believing, deep in that dark inner place, that I am a runner.

I've decided to wear red. All of my workout gear is black for convenience, so I'll have to find red running gear. If I can't, I'll make some sort of sign I can wear pinned to my back. But in honor of Jenny the Bloggess, and more importantly, in my own honor, I will be wearing red--literally and figuratively--as I run my first 5K.

Wish me luck!