I am NOT a Runner

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I’m not a runner, but I used to pretend I was.

My very first race ever. We were living in Richmond, Virginia, and I was a 22-year-old newlywed. I signed up in the typical January optimism of getting in shape and joined a running group to train for the 10k.

I finished the race, but I was extremely slow. At the halfway mark, a woman in front of me stopped to breastfeed her child. And she still beat me – by a lot.

Towards the end of the race, I got stuck behind a 5-year-old. Don’t ask me how he managed to run the entire 10k, but he clearly had. I really wanted to beat that little kid. But I couldn’t go any faster. So I kept hoping that he’d fall down or start walking so that I could pass him. But no – he beat me too.

My second race – not long after my first race. I cried and sobbed through most of it – all of those little girls with signs on their backs saying that they were walking for their moms. It was extremely emotional – no clue if I actually finished it or not.

You’d think I’d have given up by now, right? But no – Even Steven and I decided to run a marathon. Well – that’s not true. Actually, I got drunk one night and signed us up online. I had no recollection of doing this until the next morning when we both got our confirmation emails – and our receipts for $200.

I thought it was funny. Even Steven told me to start training. (And yes, this was the face he was making.)

You can read the whole story here – but let’s just say that we DID run the whole thing. We DID finish. But every walker and man wearing jeans and cowboy boots finished before we did. (And we came very close to getting divorced around mile 22.)

I walked this race for the first time when I was 19 weeks pregnant with Miles. ONLY 19 weeks. But I came in dead-last place (with my friend Cathy). We tried to speed up when we realized that we were in absolute last place – but then a blind man (complete with a white stick) passed us. This was a fairly low point in my “running” career.

My final race was the summer after Alice was born. I pushed both kids in the double stroller – Alice was 5 months old and Miles was still several months away from turning 2. I had to stop constantly to throw food at Miles – who was getting antsy in the stroller – and to save poor Alice from getting crackers mashed into her head.

>And that was when I had an “AHA” moment. Really – it was more like a “DUH” moment.

I do not like running. I am not good at it. I will not do it anymore.

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  1. Anonymous

    October 24, 2011 at 3:10 pm

    I'm not a runner! Non-runners unite! Why does everyone have this weird desire to run a marathon? When I was growing up that was what extreme runners did–not stay at home moms! I did a 5k…won't ever do that again!

  2. Marilyn

    October 24, 2011 at 6:38 pm

    :)) Hey, walking or running, I admire you for taking this plunge, I always wanted to run for a cause but life hot in the way, its certainly on my bucket list someday :))
    Ps: I would love to invite you to join over 50 bloggers plus go PINK FOR CURE on Oct 30th..Painting the blog world pink a day and spreading the word on awarness, hope and faith for Breast Cancer..Would love for you to stop in and have a look..Hope u can join in :)) TY *

  3. molly penna

    October 25, 2011 at 6:24 pm

    You crack me up! Had to link to this post.

  4. Rachael @ Fresh Squeezed Home

    October 25, 2011 at 11:18 pm

    Ha ha ha my husband and I are both runners but you completely cracked us up. The divorced comment had us laughing so hard I can just see it…lol.

  5. Samantha

    October 26, 2011 at 10:17 am

    Ha ha, you have made my day, thanks 🙂 also, hello from your newest follower.

    p.s. I actually just blogged about my fitness yesterday….lol!

  6. Liberty

    October 26, 2011 at 7:28 pm

    This is hysterical – I run to keep an even keeled temperment, but do now understand the high people talk about..
    This is way more fun!

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  10. Sue

    June 6, 2012 at 7:34 am


    I *am* a runner.

    *brushes dust off shoulders*

    But I still find plenty of ways to humiliate myself while doing my thing…ways that usually involve spitting, a farmer’s blow, or a potty emergency. Good times, Anna…good times.

  11. Crystal @ Serving Joyfully

    June 6, 2012 at 8:26 am

    lol…this really cracked me up!

  12. Kari

    June 6, 2012 at 10:55 am

    I am not a runner either, but I keep doing it anyway. I hate running. HATE. However, I really like finishing races. As much as I despise the running, I cannot top that sense of accomplishment after finishing a race, and that is why I keep signing up to do them. That, or I’m a masochistic moron.

    Or maybe both.

  13. imklvr

    June 6, 2012 at 12:08 pm

    Well, I had sense enough to KNOW I was not a runner….but I did take up the motorcycle when I was in high school. My older brother gave me a little Honda 50, taught me to ride it, and took me on a ‘Mud Run’. As the name implies….you ride a course, on logging roads, in the mountains, in the winter….in the mud. After picking myself and my bike up out of the mud for the umpteenth time, this little [email protected]#$%^ kid of about 6 zips by me on an even smaller bike and I decided I was done. I just thank God he didn’t stop to offer to help me. It wouldn’t have been pretty.

    I give you kudos for all the times you tried!

  14. XLMIC

    June 6, 2012 at 1:41 pm

    You gave it a heck of a shot! What determination! What perseverance!

    I run. I hated my jogging stroller.

  15. Karla

    June 7, 2012 at 12:28 am

    This post was hilarious. The divorce comment literally made me laugh out loud. I love to run and hope to run a marathon before I’m thirty, so first or dead last I think it’s so great that you did it anyway.

  16. Kim

    June 7, 2012 at 3:32 pm

    I have to disagree – if you ran even one of those races, you ARE a runner! Good job! I’m so in awe of you! I don’t care if the race organizers had cleaned up and taken down the finish line, you finished!! So what if you’re not faster than a blind man? Who’s counting, anyway? 😉

  17. Michelle

    September 8, 2012 at 11:13 pm

    My husband and I ran Chicago – our first marathon – the same year you and Even Steven did. I abandoned him at mile two, and he still claims that’s why he crashed at mile 15. (I would argue it was the bacon he shared with his race partner mid-stride.)

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  19. Jamie @ SensationalFamily

    August 14, 2013 at 7:40 am

    I am not a runner. I decided after a few drinks and some running for exercise that my friends and I should do a relay marathon. I have to run 7 miles. I’ve never “run” more than 3. The only thing keeping me going is knowing I’m going to a beer fest when it’s done.

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