I'm Gonna Get You, Mile!

Did you know that on May 6th, 1954, Roger Bannister ran a sub 4 minute mile? A feat that was thought physiologically impossible? And since then, a little over 1000 people have reached that goal. Amazing, isn't it?

It's the distance of a mile that got me started on this running thing to begin with. I distinctly remember the Presidential Fitness Tests we did in Middle School when I was growing up. How many sit-ups could you do in a minute? How many pull-ups? Long jump. Rope climb. And the dreaded mile. I hated that day. I hated it with more passion than I usually hated Middle School. Because I could never finish. I'd start out just like everyone else, except they'd be giggling and I'd be grimacing because I knew what the end result was going to look like. All of them, back at the gym, giggling and tossing their hair. Me. Miserably walking halfway across the field, crying. Because I'd failed one more time. Trying desperately to pull myself together before I got back. Middle School nightmares aside, I hated running from sixth grade on for that very reason. I even quit the High School tennis team when our coach insisted that we run laps as part of practice. I'd been number one singles all through Middle School, but there was no way I was running. No way.

I was relating that story to a friend of mine last March when I started running at the gym, 20 and 30 seconds at a time. And she said to me, "So that's your first goal. Run a whole mile without stopping." And I thought, "Why not? That's a GREAT goal!" And when I signed up for the 5K group, I knew that eventually, if I stuck to it, I'd meet and then exceed that goal. It happened when I was on family vacation. I'd brought all my running stuff with me because I desperately did not want to get behind the group while I was gone. There was going to be none of that quitting and crying business. And on August 16th, 2010, I ran a whole mile without stopping. And kind of without realizing. We were running 9 minutes at a time that week, and as the 9 minutes were coming to an end, I saw the end of the road. The road that is EXACTLY one mile from the cabin. And I kept on running. Because I was going to make it. And I did. On a solitary dirt road in the middle of nowhere. No cheering from the stands. Just me and the road. I might have cried.

So last Thursday night, as we were doing "speed work" for 10K training, which involved running as fast as we could for a quarter mile at a time, I thought about Roger Bannister and I thought about how he could have managed to run around that track FOUR TIMES at less than a minute each time, and I laughed. Because I'm no track star. But I do know that it was his spirit and his belief in pushing himself that got him under that 4 minute mark, so I gave it all I had. The first time around, I made it half way. The second time, about three quarters, and the successive three times, I went just a little bit farther. I never made it that whole quarter mile at top speed, but I will. Next time, right?

And here's the kicker. After we were all done, we were supposed to jog a mile to finish out the workout. I didn't want to. The bugs were horrible and I was so, so tired. And I may or may not have whined a bit about it. But I did it. That one mile. The one that had eluded me for so long. I did it because I could.

Happy Running,
Kate