I once said that I would have nothing to do with marathons, runs, fun runs or however they call it these days. I'm not fond of jogging and see no point in running (why not just dance, or walk?).
But today, I ate my words. They tasted good.
After a series of refusals (and excuses), I finally gave in to a friend's persistent invites, and found myself in a 5k run today. I did not really know what I was thinking accepting it, especially in the middle of the run when I felt like I had to drag my legs to keep going and protect my self-esteem. But think, I did, all through the run.
Was I going to finish it? Would I be condemned if I quit halfway through? How far away was I from the last runner? (I kept looking back, hehe; never thought of acing it but didn't want to be last). Which other runner should be my benchmark?
Fortunately, I saw the final mark and crossed the finish line in a performance that my friends call "not bad" for a first-timer. ;)
Beyond saving face, though, there was more to the run than just finishing it. There was fun, laughter, talk, ideas, learning, and above all, friendship.
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