Why I Run...

When I tell people I run (which sometimes it still feels weird to even call myself a runner),  it often leads to the invitable joke, "I only run when someone is chasing me." I get it really, it doesn't offend me, I used to totally do the same.  But people also ask me all the time, "Why do you run?"

The simple answer would be, my friend and I randomly decided to do this on a cross country road trip two summers ago. That would be true. But the real answer is so much deeper than that. It is wrapped up in an entire lifetime of struggles with weight & fitness.

I can remember all the way back to elementary school. Hating games like tag because I could not keep up with the other kids. Being picked last for teams every single day in P.E. Feeling like I would pass out when I had to run laps during soccer practice.  Dreading the presidential physical fitness test, knowing I would never measure up.

The worst part of the fitness test was the mile run. I worried about it for weeks before the mile. I couldn't run a lick, and it always made me feel so ashamed. I would walk with other fat girls, as the coach barked orders at us, pretending to just be lazy, and not out of shape.

But everyone knew it was because I was fat.

Even in college, I felt so winded in my physical fitness credit classes. I dropped Yoga because of my embarrassment at not being able to hold the poses. I drove to the cafeteria because even walking that short distance felt like too much most days. I would have to take a break and sit down if I was walking from the Human Sciences building to my dorm.

I could only hope that one day I would take charge of my fitness. I was doubtful anything would ever change. I could never really run, I thought. It was something other people did, not me. Yet, I still dreamed of being a runner.

I wanted to prove to myself I could do something that once seemed so insurmountable. And I did! The first time I ran a whole mile I wanted to cry. It was like I was making it OK for the old Brittany, who could not even walk a mile. It felt like I was finally forgiving that Brittany, I was taking away her shame.

Today I ran 3.1 miles with no breaks.  A full 5k. It was an amazing feeling.  It made me feel powerful. It made me feel capable. It made me feel proud. It made me feel that I was starting to leave all that insecurity behind me.

I am a runner. I can run a mile. I can run three miles. I will run a half-marathon. I can do this, I will do this.

I am Brittany, Hear Me Roar!