That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since I run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama. And that's what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going. When I got to another ocean, I figured, since I'd gone this far, I might as well just turn back, keep right on going. ? Forrest Gump
At first I thought it was silly to mention it, but I finally decided my first runniversary was cause to celebrate and reflect. One year ago today I wrote a post titled "I Don't Run". And at the time, it was true. I didn't.
That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run.
I got on a treadmill and tortured myself through an entire mile. And it took me twelve minutes.
For no particular reason I just kept on going.
I may never really know what triggered that first mile, but I truly wish I'd started this years ago. A year later, it still feels bizarre to me when I wake up early on Saturday mornings to go running and it feels even more bizarre when I actually enjoy it. I hesitated for so long to call myself "a runner", but now it just rolls off my tongue. Running quickly became part of my routine and part of what makes me tick. And no one is more surprised than me.
I wish I had started counting miles after that first one, but I didn't have any idea what this whole thing would mean to me — just since June, I've run 214 miles. I can't wait to see what that number is by this time next year.