I used to be a wimp. I really did. Not just a wimp in the sense that I couldn't handle a little pain or criticism or something like that. I was wimpy in that way, but I was a wimp in every way imaginable. Running has made me a stronger person, a better person.

You see, running is applicable to every part of life. "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." It sounds good but I think that's just a saying to most people. Runners get the full sense of what it means to "get going." So many times, when life gets tough, I want to quit. I want to do the easy thing. I want to come up with excuses, but then I remember. I am a runner.

Every time I run a race, no matter the distance, I come to a point where quitting is not only possible, it’s actually kind of reasonable. I even play in my head all the “reasons” or excuses I could tell people for why I didn’t finish or PR or whatever. …..

“Man, I got the worst cramp at mile 10 and that was it…”
“Dude, I don’t know…. My leg was aching a bit and I just couldn’t pull it out….”

When the alarm goes off at 4am I have excuses galore for why I should miss my run or bike or swim; a whole laundry list of “good” reasons not to do my work out. No one would know anyways. But on race day, when it matters most, everyone will know. You can’t hide behind excuses and you have no choice but to bare your soul to the running gods. You either did the work or you didn’t. I have done both and I can tell you one felt a whole lot better than the other.

So for me, I relate everything in life back to that experience.

Work is tough? No big deal. Stay the course, persevere, find a way to get through it and reap the reward at the end.

Marriage a bit rocky? Welcome to mile 22 of marathon day. Are you going to drop out or keep putting one foot in front of the other?

Your heart is broken and you feel like you can’t catch a break? Aaaaaah the joys of a good speed workout. Sucks right now, your heart feels like it could explode but if you just keep pushing, it will end and you won’t die in the process.

Feel like the task ahead is insurmountable? Sounds like a hill run to me. Slow down, breathe deep, trudge on…. You’ll get there!

I used to make excuses all day long. I would blame shift or try to explain my way out of stuff. And then I started running. Running keeps you honest. You either do the work or you don’t. I tell people running saved me and I really believe that it did. It saved me from a life of underachievement. It saved me from giving up on dreams and hopes and ambitions. Running took away my fear of the unknown and gave me the courage close my eyes and take the plunge. You’ll only under-train for a marathon once. And then the memory of that day will follow you… Every time you think of an excuse you’ll remember that pain and humiliation. You might think you are tough but a 5K will let you know just how tough you aren’t.

Someone once told me “Life isn’t about surviving one storm after another. Life is about learning to dance in the rain.” So, put your rain boots on, I hear the music playing…….

Take that!!!

It has been 9 months since I raced a race for me. I have paced some athletes to the finish line and just run a few races because it's fun to run them. But I have not stated a race goal and set out to achieve it in nearly a year. So, May 9th I will be targeting the Mayfaire 5K here in Lakeland with a goal of 21:xx.... Gulp! There. It's out on the interwebs for everyone to see. Now, I can begin to fret.

I hate racing. I hate setting a race goal because I know full-well that doing so means that there is a very, very good possibility that I could fail. And a 5K is even worse! In a marathon or half-iron distance tri you can make lots of excuses--- a bad stomach, dehydration, hitting the proverbial wall. Not so much with a 5K. A race goal is very important because it gives the runner a measure by which to determine how their training is going. It provides information about the training plan, the diet, the pacing, all sorts of stuff. Sounds useful, huh? Yet, this "useful tool" looms over me like the boogie man who used to sleep under my bed. As a kid, I would stand on the bed and literally leap through the door to the hall so his grimey, slimey fingers couldn't wrap around my ankle and pull me down. I would lie there in the darkness and think up tireless escape plans should he one day yank me into the dark cave. Just the same, my mind is whirring with ways to tweak my training or squeeze in a few more miles or even break my leg so I don't have to race (God help me, I am a sick, sick individual).

One of my athletes, Nicole, emails me periodically in an absolute panic. "I can't do this..... there's no way.... why did I sign up for this?...." I always laugh to myself and think, "Silly Nicole! Believe in the plan; just believe." But here I am with the exact same self-doubt building in my throat as the day gets closer and closer. And the reality of the situation is that it doesn't even matter what the race time turns out to be! How self-absorbed of me to think for one second that posting a time less than my stated goal will matter one teensy. little. bit (Thank you Betsy for pointing that out :P ). What matters is that I was brave enough to set the goal, that I toe the line on race morning and allow myself to measure up and see how well I am doing. What matters is that I run hard as hell and walk away knowing how I can improve. Because the truth is that failure can drive you to greatness or it can grab your ankle and pull you under, just like the boogie man.

So May 9th, I will be at the start line and I will give the boogie man the finger because gosh darn it I'm going for it! 100%.... all out.... fully knowing that I just might fail!

I guess I should admit, then, that my real goal is sub-21 minutes. Since we're being honest and fearless and all like that....