I ran in the Whistlestart 5K today. I was expecting “flat”, but there were a few hills. Not too bad, but not my best run. In fact the first half mile or so I thought I was going to throw up. No idea why. Never had that sensation at the START of a race before. Then, I found my mind drifting on the return leg of the race. I recalled running track in high school. I wish I knew where my track coach was today. I’d have to thank her. When my mind wandered I suddenly heard Ms. T’s voice in my head yelling: “Come on, Berlin! Show me some kick!” It snapped my focus back. Ms. T was the best gym teacher we had at CHS. She was the only one who ever did the exercises with us. The others would order us around and watch, but Ms. T never asked anyone to do anything she couldn’t do twice as well, twice as fast. During track season, she’d load us all up on a school bus, drive us to Bear Creek Lake State Park, and give us one hour to run through the woods back to school. I don’t know how far that was, but I loved it. Maybe that’s why I like trail runs so much better than streets. If you made it back to school in under an hour you were done. If you took longer, you had to run laps. I hated laps. Still do. I loathe running in circles. Sometimes she’d have us run a route that took us in, out, and around the school campus. Part of it took us into the main building and up the stairs, back down the stairs. Ugh! I hated those stairs. Even today, when I find myself on a particularly strenuous set of stairs, I think, “If Ms. T were here she’d make us run these.” That was twenty years ago. And a year or so ago when I was told by the man who loves me that my rear was getting too wide, I knew I didn’t have time or inclination to join a gym. But I had to do something. Now, when I see pictures of myself from back then, I shudder. I am so mortified that I let myself get that heavy. I had to solve the problem, and the one thing I thought I could do was run. No equipment to buy, no joining fee, no transportation needed. So after the kids would go to bed, I’d get out there and run. I ran after dark, partly so that the kids would be sleeping, but mostly because I was ashamed to let anyone see me run. Too much jiggling and shaking in all the wrong places. I’d run blind in the dark, looking up at Orion in the sky, and praying to just get myself back. The me who was there a long time ago. The me who didn’t wear a size 14/16. I knew I could run. Ms. T made me believe that a long time ago. I might not be the best runner. I might not be the thinnest runner. But I will finish. Every time. Because if I don’t, I know Ms. T will find me and make me run laps. Thanks, Kempy T.Wherever you are.

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