u/RosarkaHamill — reddlx

Now that spring is here and running season is upon us, I thought I'd share some of my story to help motivate other runners and would be runners. If you've been on a hiatus, struggling with your motivation or want to get into running, this is for you.

This is going to be a bit of a long one, but I hope you'll find it was worth it by the end.

To give you some background, I grew up as an overweight kid. Exercise was basically "punishment" for being overweight. The phrase "uh oh, time for a run!" was frequently used in my household when I was shopping for clothes and needed to get a size bigger than what was picked for me. Naturally, the mindset of exercise = punishment made me hate it. Running was the worst.

Then as an adult I gave running another go as a way to pass time in a new town. I discovered that it actually helped me decompress and relax after high stress work days, and as I got better at going longer distances I got my mum to join me on a big adventure overseas for a marathon. We picked the spot specifically because it was a race my dad had run before he got cancer and I think we did his memory proud.

On this trip a stranger at a bar told me I should "like totally do a marathon on each continent". I got really inspired by this and I did a second marathon the following year at a pace I was really happy with.

Then COVID happened. My city went into full shutdown, including all gyms. The weather was miserable for months and I had no space for working out at home in my tiny apartment I lived in at the time. On top of this I had ended up stuck in a job I despised and was absolutely miserable. Naturally, I got out of shape and struggled to get back into what I'd previously enjoyed and had as a positive escape.

At the tail end of COVID I met my now husband. We quickly fell into the "trap" of dating, where exercise dropped way down the priority ladder below more fun things like going out for dinner, movie nights on the sofa and so on. On top of this, my husband wasn't big on exercise and even less into running. He legitimately hated it and only went jogging with me once, which was an absolutely miserable experience where he begged to stop and go home before we'd even reached 3k while doing a very comfy pace.

Still, I wanted to chase my dream of 1 marathon per continent as I'd signed myself up for mentally years earlier. A full marathon felt a bit too far out of reach however after years of not doing any really long runs. So, to motivate myself and try to get back in the saddle, I signed up for a half marathon in the city I live in.

The so called training period for the race ended up being an absolute failure. I felt pulled in all different directions. I spent 2 hours a day commuting and working 5 days a week. Naturally when I came home I both wanted and needed time with my husband, back then still only my boyfriend. But, since he wouldn't come running with me, what could I do? I had to choose my priority; nurturing my relationship, or pursuing my hobby by going for a jog by myself.

I obviously chose my relationship since we are now married, but I promise you don't need to jump to the comments to tell me off! I put a lot of effort into my relationship yes, but my husband was supportive from the sidelines. On race day he took lots of videos of me from various places on the race course, he provided me with snacks and he cheered for me at the finish line.

This day ended up being the turning point for me, but not for the reasons I expected. The thing is that the race itself was absolute crap. I had a horrible experience, in spite of my husband's best efforts as my number one cheerleader.

Since my training had been crap, my race was crap too. As they say, shit in, shit out. I was slow, and for us slowpokes the race course was dead. Hardly anyone watched along the sidelines and even fewer cheered. They had hired a drag queen to sit in one of the special booths along the race course to cheer for us. As someone who LOVES drag, I was really excited for this. When the little group of runners I was with came near her booth and she sat there, twiddling her microphone, not meeting our eye and looking like she'd rather be at home filing her taxes, I felt something akin to that kid who met Iron Man out of costume (although with less crying thankfully).

It only got worse from there. When I reached the last drinks stall I had to stop because the people who were cleaning up and dismantling the race course got in my way. Yes, you did read that right. They were already dismantling the race course when there were still hundreds of runners left.

When I crossed the finish line I got the last slap in the face of the day. They had run out of medals about 20 - 30 people before me. I felt so defeated I didn't take a single photo at the finish line, even though I'd just completed my first half marathon ever.

Still, ironically, this garbage ass race day turned things around for me, in a positive way! My husband had gotten motivated to start running. His reasoning was that he saw that, even though I struggled and it was tough, I never gave up. He thought that if I could do that, so can he.

We started small with some 3ks together then 5k, then 10k. He started going for runs by himself when I was too busy or couldn't join for whatever reason. Going for a run together became a treat in our every day life. We got time to disconnect from other stuff while also having time to spend together on our new shared hobby.

Last year he ran his first ever marathon with me. We crossed the finish line together and we celebrated by taking a bunch of pics with our medals and going out for a fancy dinner since the marathon was also part of our vacation.

This year we have already done a 10k together and we're signed up for a half marathon together, a race he picked. We're excitedly looking at marathon calendars online and planning our next adventure and what continent to pick.

Am I crazy fast? Nope. Am I shredded AF from all the running? Not even close. But, I managed to get back into a hobby I had essentially given up on. I was sure my goal of 1 marathon per continent was forever out of reach, and that I should just accept that I was so out of shape and crap at running that I didn't even deserve a finishers medal, even though I'd paid for it in blood, sweat, tears and my actual cash money.

I'm sharing this long and possibly meandering story to tell you, fellow would be marathoner, recently started runner or old running pal on a longer than planned hiatus, to not give up! If I could get into running, nosedive and get back into it, then there is absolutely hope for you too.

If you stuck with me to the end of this post, thank you so much for your time and best of luck to you with your running journey!