I'm back (again)

I'll bet you thought that I had given up.

So did I.

But, as in so many things in life, you never know. (Deep, right?)

Here’s how I got back. The other day, I was visiting my buddy Sean, who lives down the street from me. Sitting at his kitchen island, I was chatting with his daughter Abby while Sean dried out the cardboard round from a frozen pizza in his oven (don't ask).  

(Side note: Abby, who is 24, I think, still refers to me as "Coach Scott" many years after I coached her in volleyball. I find that charming and wonder how many other now-grown men and women still remember me as "Coach" from my days coaching kids' volleyball, basketball, and soccer.)

After a while, Sean's wife Danica came home and joined the conversation.  We talked about this and that, and then, at some point, I brought up that I had signed up for the Half Marathon.

"You?" she said.

I wasn't sure how to take that.

"Yes, me," I replied.

"Oh, well, that’s great," she said. "I haven't run in forever."

Danica had been, for a time, a serious runner, working out with running groups in Pearland and training hard. Moreover, she and my friend John were also my workout buddies for a couple of years when we trained together for the 2012 Half Marathon.  (I finished in 2:28:07, edging out her time of 2:30:41, and John beat both of us with a 2:19:38.  She would go on to much better times, while I did not.)

"So, let's start," I said. "How about Thursday?"

She mused on that for a moment.

"Maybe,” she said. “You know, you were always good at telling a story that lasts exactly 3.1 miles. Text me and we’ll see."

The next evening, I texted her and we agreed to meet for a run around the neighborhood at 6:00 a.m. in the morning.  I set my alarm for 5:40 and went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up at 5:51 (I'd set the alarm for 5:40 p.m., instead of 5:40 a.m., a subtle act of self-sabotage, I guess), and had nine minutes to get to the meeting place.  I dressed quickly, grabbed my shoes and socks, and fast-walked barefoot to the meeting place.

"You could have put your shoes on," she said as I approached.

The heat, even at 6:00, was oppressive and damp. We set out, doing short intervals from one lamppost to the next, alternating running and walking.  I think it went pretty well - at least I didn't pass out.

We talked about various things (all covered by runner confidentiality) and did a solid two-plus miles before walking the rest of the way. 

As always, she's good company and I don’t think I slowed her down much.

We will try again this weekend.  Woo hoo!