Now I’ve really put myself out there

Lindsay's Lines

When I wrote my first column for the Mirror, I wrote about how I’d agreed to do something that terrified me — speak in front of a crowd.

The list of things I’m scared of is extremely long and I joked with my co-workers that this could be my “thing,” writing about how scared I was of something and whether I could overcome that fear or not. I’d never run out of topics and I would probably make other people feel better about themselves because they aren’t as cowardly as I am.

It was just a joke. Writing about myself every two weeks would be too boring to bear — for you as readers and for me as a writer — and even if the thing I was writing about was different each time, it would still be basically the same column over and over. I wasn’t going to put you through that.

But this week, I can’t help but write about another thing I’ve agreed to do that scares me because I can’t stop thinking about it.

I signed up for a half marathon in September.

It sounds crazy. It looks crazy when I put it in writing. I have to face it — it is crazy. And as the time ticks by, it seems crazier and crazier.

I’ve never run longer than 10 kilometres at a time. Ever. But once upon a time (this past summer), I started running and got up to around eight to 10 kilometres. And somehow, my ridiculous brain has decided that if I can do that, I can do 21.1 kilometres.

I don’t know what possessed me to think that.

Nobody is ever going to mistake me for a runner. You have never seen me running along the Seawalk or along Dogwood. I don’t talk about running. I don’t belong to a running club and I am too intimidated to go into a running store.

But I’ve always wanted to be a runner. But it always ends up just being an idea. Somehow, I can never turn wanting to be a runner into actually being a runner.

I thought that signing up for a race and having a commitment and a goal would help. And it did for a little while. But that has already faded and I’m back to square one.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has gone through this runner-not a runner-runner-not a runner cycle (although I’m also pretty sure that everyone else turns themselves into a runner or moves on and finds a sport that actually suits them much sooner than me), and I’d love to hear your advice if you feel like sharing it at