Tonight, on my run, I got a little hint of a true glorious feeling when I run.

It was just a moment, really. When I wasn’t looking at my watch, and I wasn’t looking at my company, or even really listening to them. I wasn’t fiddling with my hat, and I wasn’t staring at my feet wishing the interval was over.

I was looking at the horizon, and for a moment, I felt taller and stronger. And capable and truly proud to be out there.

Does that sound funny to you? Are you wondering why I pursue this if I am not rewarded by that great feeling all of the time?

I thought it was just me. I thought that because I wasn’t “naturally born” (whatever that means?!?) into running, that I wasn’t going to experience that feeling. I thought that feeling was for a more elite athlete.

But nope. I felt it. Unmistakenly so.

And tonight, I really fell in love with it.

I think I’ve learned something in this very first week of following these run/walk intervals, even though I’ve wanted to push myself harder on certain nights.

I think I was hurting myself, and my performance, by trying to do too much too soon. In the effort to “be” a runner, I was really pushing myself, and adding mileage a bit too quickly. I was feeling tired all of the time, and kept thinking I had to do more, more, more if I was ever going to be able to do a race.

This week of doing the 20 minute workout, and supplementing with some walking and swimming, has done me the world of good. Maybe it is a confidence booster for me to go into this clinic and feel able to do this, I dunno. Physically, I have loads of energy, am sleeping mostly better, and the best news: my ankle feels normal!!! Yay!!! I also recognize that I feel positive and excited, and I feel as if something pivotal is happening in my life that I really can’t put text to yet. It’s big and it’s about more than the running, really.

That’s where I’m at. I’m looking forward to my son’s bike-trail-and-BMX-track birthday party tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to the running clinic tomorrow night.

In closing, I was really moved today, reading blogs. One race report actually moved me to tears. If you haven’t already, go over and give this guy a pat on the back. An inspiration, he is!

It got me thinking a lot about mentoring. We have the “official” role of mentoring in our lives: our children, our siblings perhaps, students, new co-workers. But what about the “unofficial” ones? Funny, the first person that comes to mind is a quiet 10-year old girl at church who seems to latch herself to me whenever she can, and compliment me profusely. I need to think of myself more as a mentor to her. I don’t mean it as a hierarchy thing, but rather as being committed to guide. To listen. To demonstrate excellence. That’s a big responsibility, I think. I wonder if God plans it all out on a big pin-filled map, barking orders: “You! You shadow Bev, already! And Bev! You shadow him … you might learn something there, girl … so pay attention!”

And who mentors me? Hmmm … my sister-in-law, who is always a bit calmer and wiser when it comes to certain things. My running partner, Tara, definitely is a mentor in both a physical fitness sense and a spiritual sense. I know there are more; I need to think about that more really.

So … who is your mentor? And who do you mentor? Word of the day, folks.

Haven’t sorted out the race deal yet. My friend would like me to walk a 10k with her in June, which sounds good to me. The goal remains, though, to run a 5k this summer.

Okay, enough small talk.

Does anyone else have anyone in their lives who tries to “sabotage” or rain on your parade?? When I initially started losing the post-baby weight, I had a lot of difficulty with one friend of mine who is very overweight. It was very textbook-ish, as we went through a lot of emotions about this together, and I’m sure we’ll continue to do that. She is able to talk fairly openly with me about her feelings, though, and I think we’ve come out OK. Another person in my life is a different story. She is so negative about me running … and so very verbal about that … that today I had to declare the topic off-limits. No more. She goes on and on about how running is really for elite athletes (she’s never jogged a meter in her life … (yep, I said “meter” just for Jon…. ) I’ve had to set boundaries in the past with her, but today this had to be addressed. I’m getting better at confronting these things. Surprising myself these days, generally-harmony-loving me.

When I think about the reasons why I wanted to blog, I think that it’s the support that’s really key. I grin because I’m a new runner full of questions and queries, and I can celebrate small successes and gain support from an experienced and empathetic circle of people. That’s huge. I certainly am blessed with other supportive friends and family members … but the RBF really fills a need for me in that sense. I’m surprised at how early I’ve recognized that in my blogging experience.

Okay, laundry is calling.

Today, I’m doing a food log and trying to drink a whole lotta water. Writing down every bit that goes into my mouth is an eye-opener for me everytime.

I have this pitcher I slice lemons and limes in, and then fill with ice and water and drink from it all day. When I lost weight before, I used to drink 3 of those pitchers per day. As I’m drinking it slowly today, I’m wondering how I did that. Moreso, I’m wondering why I stopped that?!?!

Why do I get lazy with good habits? I had a great water habit, one that probably left me so full and hydrated that I never felt a big need for a Diet Coke. Somewhere along the way, I let that habit slide out of the window. Sometimes I think that when I see success, I get a bit cocky, and think, ahhh, I don’t need to be so “gung-ho” about that anymore, because I’m doing well. Guess what? Cockiness leads to laziness. Laziness takes you right back to square one, I believe. No passing go, no two hundred bucks.

Getting my head around the “lifelong habit” concept this morning. You?

Grrrrrr.

Then, this guy of about 17 years old pulls up in his car. Butts out his cigarette, and says, “Can I push for you?” Camryn cries harder; I say, why not?? He tries, but it doesn’t work. So he offers to try and drive it out for me. I hop out (yes, my kids are in the vehicle … yes, very dumb in hindsight…. but yes, it’s a small town and my gut says he’s OK). He tries again and again but no luck. I can’t believe this. Adults … adults I even know are just driving on by, even waving. Then five of this kid’s friends pull up, (when you’re seventeen and it’s lunch hour, you fill up every seat in your car, don’t you??) and they ALL pushed while he drove, and they got me out!!!!!!

His name was Justin, I found out … and he made me sorry for anytime I’ve ever rolled my eyes about a teenager. Because when I said, “Thanks so much for stopping, because you really didn’t have to do that, you know” , he replied: “What was I gonna do? Drive on by and get on with my day?”

Wow. Incredible attitude, Justin. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!!!! And “well done” to Justin’s parents!

This isn’t so short is it? Bear with me.

Conclusion: Today just impresses on me what a job we’re given as parents to be role models. Kids need to see us eat well, and need to see us choosing and enjoying physical activity. They’re watching … those sneaky things. Even when they don’t look like they are, indeed they’re watching.

Recent replies by Heather and Marie have got me thinking … well, what was I thinking??? I thought if I was going to run 5k this summer, I had better be able to RUN 5k. Top form, running the whole way, no stopping, no break, no walks. Now, I’m questioning that: why don’t I TRY a race, and if I have to walk some, that’s OK?? And moreso, why did that option never, ever occur to me???

This is a big frying-pan-on-the-head moment for me.

I do that a TON in my life. If I can’t do things very well, or almost know that I can accomplish them, I don’t think I do them very much. Pretty safe shell to live in. If someone told me that statement about myself, I’d disagree: I live on the edge … heck, I’ve skydived … I’m adventurous …. HAH! I think I stay in the safe zone a lot, especially when it comes to my fitness. I don’t always like to be uncomfortable. Maybe this is why I hate working my abs so much?? I’m sure there are deeper and darker reasons that I could pay a therapist hundreds of dollars per hour to talk about, but that really doesn’t matter now that I’ve actually NAMED this problem. I like to stay safe.

I need to stretch myself. I need to sign up to do something that I’m not 100% sure I can do well …

For me, that’s a race. I don’t call myself a runner. Actually, my family (as in parents, brother’s, in-laws, etc.) don’t even know I’ve been running. I don’t think I’m “supposed” to be a runner. I don’t think I look like a runner …. yet. I still have weight to lose, muscles to tone, speed to gain. I was never a runner in high school who just took a break when I had kids. I always chose javelin at the track meet … hmmm … because I could do it! This is really my first kick at the can with running.

I don’t know how this reads … it may sound trivial to someone with a lot of running / race experience, but for me it’s pretty emotional, and quite pivotal.

Looking for a race, people. Well, first, I’m going out to run. As soon as the Glue-Stick Monster wakes up from her nap.