In the last year or so, I’ve referred to my training for the Irish Fest 5K as part of “The year I ran.” I’ve never been someone to run willingly. I’ve run for the bus, I’ve run for a plane, I’ve run for a gym class when assigned to, and every time I’ve hated doing it. And in the latter case, got a C for doing it.

But on Memorial Day, 2010, while Bill and the dogs were out for a walk, I thought to myself, “I’m going to go for a run.” Those words had never entered my head before. I had thought about running and had downloaded a “Couch to 5K” app onto my phone a few weeks earlier. But actually running? I didn’t think I’d ever do it.

It was awful. I walked for five minutes and then broke into the world’s slowest jog. I might call it a “galumph.” It only lasted 60 seconds, and was followed by 90 seconds of walking. And then the pattern was repeated for another 17-1/2 minutes. Of sheer hell.

When I got home, Bill was already back and asked where I had been. I told him I’d gone running and was aiming to do a 5K in August. He laughed. I don’t think he thought I’d do another day, let alone 9 weeks. I wasn’t sure I would, for that matter.

But I did. I never ran particularly fast, I never really enjoyed it all that much while doing it, but I did it. 

I haven’t done it since. Partly due to a bad bout of plantar fasciitis that made running painful, and partly to a lack of motivation that I’d had just a year before. But I liked who I was when I prepared for that race, and I’d like to be that person again.

But first I need to figure out just who I was in the Year I Ran. And how can I be that person again? Do I need to be that person? Or did she serve the purpose she was intended to serve for that year?

This is why I’m “here,” writing this blog. I have an idea of why it happened and I’m wondering if it will happen again. Or if it can be translated to something else that I need to do.