Late bloomer

image

1st – 5th grade: a perpetual disappointment to my gym teacher Mr. Doritan (“you’ve got the PUSH the ball,” he would implore)

10th grade: Cut from the volleyball team

Freshman year at Ohio State: faithfully walked across campus to do Buck-i-Robics on Sunday nights

Age 23: Moved to L.A. and decided to try a kickboxing class at Bodies in Motion in Santa Monica (red acrylic nails? check. white bike shorts under bloomy black Umbros? check.)

Age 23 – 26: If I wasn’t working at the magazine or attending movie screenings at night, I was working out. Total gym rat. Kickboxing. Spinning. Almost. Every. Day.

Age 27: Back in Ohio, and back at home with parents. At a crossroads and in a what-am-I-doing? free-fall, with no gym to flee to, started running outside. That spring, ran first 10k.

Age 28: Now living in a cute apartment in Grandview, began teaching Spinning a couple nights a week.

30s: Somewhere in this decade, living near a running trail, I became a homeowner, wife, mother, corporate professional and runner. Never went past 8 miles.

39: For the first time, ran the Whitetail Deer trail half-marathon in September. Couldn’t believe the beauty, not to mention the treacherous terrain. Fell once.

40: Won the female category at a trail 25k. In November. What misery.

41: By now, had many race bibs in my top drawer. For the first time, ran the Columbus Marathon.

42: Got some Altra trail running shoes like the ones Patagonia ambassador Jen Shelton wears. Every bit of inspiration helps.

I never thought of myself as athletic until very recently. I guess it’s never too late.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s