really<\/em> wanted a pair of Lululemon sweatpants.<\/p>\nI can\u2019t remember exactly what style or color they were \u2014 but what I do remember is begging my mom for them, from the moment she got out of bed in the morning until she was brushing her teeth before going back to sleep. To be fair to myself, nothing is more important than having a brand name in your back-to-school outfit as an incoming sixth grader.<\/p>\n
So when I finally heard that exasperated sigh \u2014 the one that meant she was about to say yes to something \u2014 my heart soared. However, I wasn\u2019t at all prepared for the words that left her mouth next.<\/p>\n\n\t\t<\/aside>\n\u201cIf I buy you these sweatpants, you\u2019re running cross country this fall.\u201d<\/p>\n
The sixth-grade version of me, clumsily running two miles every day after school, was screaming at that earlier version of me to say no, never ever<\/em> will I run cross country for anything. But, of course, (in the name of Lululemon sweatpants), I agreed, not knowing what a life-changing decision I had made. It seemed like a simple enough deal.<\/p>\nMy three years of middle school cross country were not super memorable. I\u2019d go to practice, painfully complying with the one- or two-mile runs the coaches would enforce, then go home wearing my new favorite Lululemon sweatpants as a reminder of why I was doing this. Only until eighth grade<\/em>, I reminded myself anytime I wanted to quit or sit down and cry during my run. Only until eighth grade<\/em> \u2014 or so I thought.<\/p>\nHow was I convinced to continue this sport after I left middle school? The memories of how my high school cross country career began are blurry. But once again, I found myself in a locker room after the final bell rang, wishing I was one of those people who could go home immediately after school, have a snack and relax before they had to start their homework. After a while, it became routine: Before school, I would arrive 10 minutes early to drop my bag \u2014 filled with my shoes and poorly planned running outfit \u2014 into my locker. As soon as the last bell rang, I would sprint to the locker room to shove down a granola bar, fueling myself for the two-hour-long practice I didn\u2019t dread, but didn\u2019t quite look forward to either.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I was never a spectacular team runner, and I\u2019ve known it from the beginning. I never had a tight mentor-mentee relationship with any of my coaches. I never hung out with my teammates outside of practice and I struggled to take one meet off whenever I felt that shin pain creeping up again, reminding me it would never leave me alone. Despite these experiences, my final high school meet in October 2023 was a four-second personal best. Truthfully, I had set myself a goal of a 30-second best at minimum, but I thought to myself, That\u2019s enough. I\u2019m never running again<\/em>. I didn\u2019t fail to make it known either, especially to my mother, whose deal back in my middle school days was the entire reason I was sitting at the finish line, staring blankly down at my mud-coated spikes and trying not to vomit.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\t\t<\/aside>\nAnd I was right \u2014 at least up until the second semester of my freshman year at the University of Michigan, when I began to wake up each morning, immediately anxious. Despite my promise to myself that my running days would be left behind me, I knew the only way to alleviate my anxiety was to put on my old, dirty running shoes \u2014 the ones with the top part of the lace missing \u2014 and go for a run in Nichols Arboretum. <\/p>\n
I had never felt worse or more out of shape on a run in my entire life \u2014 but during those two miles, as I ran alongside the Huron River, my mind had never felt clearer. That was the moment I realized my love for running was never about the times, the places or the medals. It was about how, for 30 minutes of my day, I could zone out and think about anything I wanted \u2014 or nothing at all. My brain had 30 minutes to rest and shut off while my body did all the work.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Now here I am. Running the Ann Arbor marathon relay and the Detroit half-marathon with a one-week turnaround. All my past race bibs are pinned on my wall \u2014 literally the only piece of decoration I have in my room \u2014 and my incredibly soft and cozy 2024 Big House 5K T-shirt is neatly folded in my closet. I like to think all the countless miles I\u2019ve put in over the years (even the half-hearted ones from sixth grade) built me up to becoming the runner I am today. And the best part is, I have absolutely no idea where those Lululemon sweatpants are now.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Daily Arts Writer Emily Kim can be reached at kimemily@umich.edu<\/em><\/a>.<\/em><\/em> <\/p>\n\n\t\t<\/aside>\n
Related articles<\/em><\/h3>\n<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"This fall, two relay teams of four Daily Arts staffers will train for and run the\u00a0Probility Ann Arbor Marathon. But as writers, we can\u2019t just run the race \u2014 we have to write about our\u00a0past experiences\u00a0with running, how we are preparing for the marathon, what we look forward to and what we are afraid of. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3102,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[20],"tags":[436,3208,2562,3207],"class_list":["post-3101","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-entertainment","tag-journey","tag-kickstarted","tag-running","tag-sweatpants"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3101","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3101"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3101\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3103,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3101\/revisions\/3103"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3102"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3101"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3101"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tmbglobal.news\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3101"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}