I just want to look better in a bikini, not be a role model for my children.

Coach's family has established a summer tradition.
Running a 5Mile on the Fourth of July.
Awesome, clap, high five.

Why can't we, start a Garden club?
Or meet for ice cream on Father's Day,
or start a Saturday afternoon Kite Flying Club?
All sound more reasonable.

This is Clark's doing. No one claims he is the brightest member of our family and this Gem is not earning him any brownie points from my corner.

He roped his wife and Flag girl first. Easy score, those girls would jump off a cliff together, holding hands and giggling.
Then, he convinced The Commish and Two.
After I dared Coach, those guys were way bigger jocks than him...Coach reluctantly agreed.

Last year, they woke up obscenely early and ran a 5Mile.
No one paid them.
There were no prizes.
They just ran, in the rain, for no darn reason.

Now, the hippity dippity good time, is gaining momentum and more members of the family. Including cousins. Everyone wants a piece of the mind bending fun.

Here is the thing.

I hate to Run.

I don't want to be friends with Running.
I don't want to invite Running over for a cookout.
I don't want to hook up with Running in a bar and give it my phone number.
I don't want to email Running a funny chain letter.
I don't want to know Running, talk to Running, send Running a Christmas card and I sure
...do ..not ....want ...to Run a 5Mile.

I am not writing this post to inspire myself and others. I do not need blog followers to encourage me with peppy emails. There will be no real training. I simply lack that spark in my brain that triggers people to 'run fast'.

Last summer, Coach did not train. At all.
He is in fine shape, but not running shape.
He bought a new pair of shoes, did not brake them in, did not stretch and with NO support from his family (actually, we were all hoping he would lose and we openly told him such) he still beat every other member who had been training for weeks.
Coach confessed, even though his body wanted to walk, his mind said no. As strangers ran with him, his brain would convince him to run faster. He could not lose, not to anyone, not even to a person he had never met and would never see again. His brain is not wired for defeat.

Now, my brain.
My brain, says quit.
Not in life, not with my family or my health or in seeking joy.
But if I tried to run to the end of my very own driveway.
After 3 seconds, my brain would respond..
"What the bleep are you doing? The driveway is not going anywhere. Just walk. Dang, girl...we nearly lost our breath."

This morning, I got on Amazon to purchase Running for Dummies.
I clicked the book and Amazon suggested, "A Woman's guide, to Training for a Marathon, Get out of that Chair Already".
Honestly, that was the name.
I felt the title spoke to me, and I clicked that to my cart.
Then, the site suggested, "The Very Beginner's Guide, to Training for a 5K. A Woman's Guide to Run, Jog or Walk a 5K."
I clicked that to my cart, deleted the other two and purchased.
Seriously, even Amazon knows I lack the gumption. The Internet understands, I can barely get out of my chair and should just shoot for walking.
I already quit running, just while shopping online for books. I should feel disappointed in my own lameness or even slightly embarrassed.
And yet, I do not.

Therefore, here is my promise.

I promise to participate (participate, does not spell run) in the 5Mile.
I promise to buy cute shorts, new shoes and fashion a smart ponytail.
I promise to, at the very least, walk quickly.
I promise to take the pre-race, yoga more seriously, than the actual running.
I promise, to try not to swear or throw things at the crowd as they kindly push me to run.
(I said, I will try not to swear.)
I promise to be encouraging and happy for my other family members as they compete. If it is important, to run down a street at 8:00am, without masked men chasing you. I can pretend that your goal, is important to me.
I also, promise to be one more person, you will beat.

You are welcome.
It is my pleasure, to be your loser.