When I was 14 years old, my father told me a story. He told me when he was in high school he won a running race. I don’t remember if he came first or second. If you know my father, then you will understand why I love him to bits. The most importantly, he is the best father any kid could ask for. He used to a heavy smoker, but he is not anymore; we quit together. Other than that, he is just perfect, and I am not saying that because he is my father. Anyway, after my dad told me that, naturally, I wanted to be like him. When the ancouncement from my gymnastics professor came that there would be a two-mile qualifier race, I went and registered on the spot.
About a week after the announcement (if I remember right after 28 years!―Time sure flies by, people), all the kids that were participating got into a bus. The bus drove us from the high school onto the old road of the village, exactly 2 miles from high school.
When we got there, we got out of the bus, and our professor gave us 10 minutes for warm-up. A “warm-up,” what’s that? I never run in my life. Well, I did run when I was playing soccer with the other kids of my village, but running for 2 miles was the first time.
The other kids that knew a little bit more than I did were stretching and running up and down and some were running on the spot. Anyway, the whole scene was new to me, and I felt awkward…
Amazon Link: How to train and finish your first 10k race.