You never forget your first.

I signed up for my first 5K within 4 weeks of starting my Couch-to-5K training program.

I had read in running magazines and running sites that signing up for a run would provide a goal, and an accountability. A run on the horizon would supposedly focus my training and keep me from slacking off.

Since I had made it past my initial "I must be batshit crazy thinking my fatass could be a runner" system shock, I figured a 5K was a doable distance. I could interval it (walk/run/walk) and go at my own snailish speed.

I did not have any expectations, but I would be lying if I said my ego did not demand some sort of goal. Keep in mind, my whole journey to becoming a runner started with a blow to my ego and a challenge. So I set an attainable goal, being that I had yet to reach 2 miles in my training... One hour. I wanted to finish the 5K in less than 60 minutes. I aimed for 59.

A lesser goal came to me on the day of the run as I stood among the crowd: "Don't be last." But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The night before my run, I was a live wire. I prepared my gear. I drank enough water to drown a fish. I went to bed early... And I tossed and turned and could not for the life of me, fall asleep. 5AM came quickly and I was exhausted.

I arrived at the run an hour before the start time. It was a chilly November morning, and I couldn't get warm. I paced. I visited the restroom and basically fretted the whole hour.

Why was I nervous? Well, as I mentioned before, the furthest I had managed to go in training was about 2 miles, and quite frankly, those 2 miles just about killed me.

What I hadn't mentioned before is that my training took place on rural trails by myself. I'd never run with anyone else around. Yes, vanity is indeed the name of the game. I knew I looked stupid when running, and now as the other runners were starting to show I realized I was a fraud. I wasn't a runner. I was a wannabe. I didn't deserve to be there. What the hell was I thinking?!

The runners were instructed to line up. I saw folks I knew lining up at the front. I hid. I lined up in the back, with the elderly and strollers. As I looked around I decided that it was too late to pull out, and if I was going to go down I might as well go down in a blaze. I was going to do everything I could to not come in last.

I didn't hear the start of the race. I know there must have been some kind of signal or announcement, but I wasn't aware of it. All I was aware of was the mass of people around me suddenly moving... So I moved with them.

I put my earplugs in, and turned on my iPod and decided to drown out the world and pretend I was alone on the trails. I walked one song, ran two. I kept up that without paying attention to time or distance. Before I knew it I was at the water station... Halfway mark!

As I began to pass people I started to feel like less of a fraud. I know I was passed more than I passed, but I didn't pay attention to those pulling ahead. I figured for every person I passed that was one less person I finished after. Even if I only finished in front of one person, that meant I wasn't last.

At some point my playlist started to speak to me. It was during U2's Elevation that I saw the 3 mile marker, and saw the turn into the finishing chute. I had .1 of a mile left, time to gun it and go out in that blaze. (Granted, I was already a slow runner, and I was exhausted so "gunning it" was more mental than physical.)

I crossed the finish line at 56 minutes.

It was under an hour.

I wasn't last.

I didn't collapse and die.

I was feeling pretty okay about it, and then it happened... a person I knew came out of no where and hugged me and congratulated me. Then another person told me I did a great job. Then a stranger came up to me and said they were behind me the whole way and was using my pacing and walk breaks to keep themselves going.

I was accepted.

I was welcomed.

I was encouraged.

I wasn't a fraud.

I was a runner.

The following week, I signed up for another three 5Ks.

Set backs.

I must sound like a broken record at times.

"Running is not a science; it's an art."

That doesn't make it less true, it just makes it repetitive.

When I say that, what I mean to say is that there is no one way to approach the sport, nor is there a magic equation that will solve the "problem," whatever that "problem" may be.

When I started, I tried to make running logical. I wrote out a plan, followed a schedule, and subsequently berated myself if I failed to keep up. I *had* to be up to so many miles or at a certain pace by the arbitrary date I set for myself. Anything less than perfection was a reflection of my character.

I was taking what little joy I derived out of the torturous sport of running and I was converting it into a chore.

After I ran a few 5Ks, and I managed to achieve a pace that would prevent being swept off course, I relaxed. I found the joy in running. I found the peace of a long solo run. I found fulfillment in being tired earlier in the morning than most people are awake.

But this period was but a short reprieve.

I'm back to plans, schedules and dread.

I know mentally this is wrong. I should just be having fun out there, but all I can think is, "I've already run 10 miles. I just need to go another 3.1 and I'm half-marathoning."

I'm so close, that every time I go out and fail to go the distance due to pain, injury, illness, heat, cold, dehydration, or whathaveyou, I can't help but beat myself up.

Unfortunately there is no solution to this. It's easy to say, "Blow it off." But I'm rather pigheaded. I will run 13.1 miles or die trying... I just wish I could have some fun on the journey.

Running commentary.

I've noticed over time, that I tend to talk to myself while running.

Now, this is not to be confused with the usual mental coaching session that normally occupies my senses as I hit the trails. I actually vocalize as I run.

It's not a run-long conversation with myself in which I answer myself or anything quite as psychotic. It's more of various mantras and chants I repeat. The more tired I get, the more loopy and lightheaded I become, the more repetitive these prayers to deities unknown become.

Sometimes a song on my iPod playlist will hit a nerve, and I'll find myself repeating a phrase or chorus, sometimes it's a trite "motivational" phrase like "No Pain! No Pain!" or "Not Tired! Just Fired!"

I'm sure I both look and sound like a crazy person to the casual observer. As such I do try keep my volume down when near other folks. I already look silly with my racing gear going at a snail's pace, I don't want to add to it.

Since I run with my iPod blaring in my ears, sometimes I'm unaware of how loud I can be, so when running with other folks I keep one earbud out, so I can also be aware of my environment as well my as crazy antics. This has led to an interesting discovery recently.

I am not alone.

As I ran past one fellow, I overheard him repeating "Come on sun. Come out sun" as it was cold that morning. A lady passed me who seemed to have her own running commentary of "You can do this. You got this."

I'm not sure how this makes me feel.

I mean, either I'm normal, or all runners are bat-shit crazy.

It's all about the bling.

When you hear a runner talk about "bling," they aren't discussing the latest  Zales or Tiffany score. They are referring to finisher medals.

Most official runs, be they 5K, 10K, a Half Marathon, Marathon or Ultra will have a finisher medal. That is a medal you are presented at the end of the run, at the finish line. Because ultimately, it doesn't matter if you came in first or last, if you PR'd or crawled, if you finished, you won.

(Runners don't run against other runners. They run WITH other runners. But I digress. This is a topic for a different post.)

Some runs or races have better bling than others.

Local runs, usually have OTC (Over The Counter) medals. Those are generic medals you can buy at bulk at a local trophy shop. They are inexpensive for racing coordinators, and easy to buy extras of in case of same day registration.

Destination runs, those like the Rock and Roll series, ING, or RunDisney events which require registration months ahead of time usually have amazing custom bling. The medals are usually dated, and are highly coveted.

Of course, the bling is directly proportionate to the cost of the race. The more expensive the run, the more impressive the medal. It makes sense.

A local run may cost you $20 to participate in. An OTC medal is fine.
An ING or RunDisney event may cost you $75-$150 to participate in. An OTC would be an insult. Of course you're getting a hefty medal.

Granted, destination runs bring with them other kinds of bragging rights, since they feature certain criteria that a local run may lack. For example, a minimum pace requirement, early registration doe to sell out, or in the case of the Boston Marathon, you need to qualify to even be considered to run in it. The bling is just a physical representation of the bragging rights you've earn.

The bling says:

1. I followed the rules. 
2. Met the requirements.  
3. I went the distance.

Regardless of the type of run, hoops jumped through, and heft of the medal... bling is bling. Wear it proudly. It announces to the world, "While you were sleeping, I did this. Yay me!"