How it began

"I'll buy you a guitar if you don't quit the cross country team."

Those aren't the exact words my mother used, but it summarizes the gist of our agreement, nonetheless. My mother was never one to use bribery as a parenting skill, but she could see I had her backed into a corner. I was determined to quit halfway through my senior year of high school cross country and nothing was going to change my mind. I'd had enough of this running crap. Wise beyond my years, she knew I'd regret quitting when I got older and promised me a guitar to finish out my last season.

I'd gotten suckered into joining the team as a naive freshman. The captain at the time, Paula, called me at home personally and coaxed me into giving it a try, if only for a week. They were in desperate need of runners to be recognized as an official team by the city and turned to the incoming freshman class for fresh bodies. I begrudgingly agreed, feeling a twinge of smugness at the fact that a senior, a senior, paid any attention to me. My dad, a long time runner himself, was thrilled when he heard the news. He immediately took me out to the specialty running store to be fitted for a sturdy pair of shoes and, before I knew what was happening, I was out for my first Saturday run with my dad.

I cried. I whined. I swore. He ran circles around me and by the time we reached the end of the block, I fell to the ground, spread eagle on the sidewalk swearing off running come hell or high water. I hobbled around the house for two days, dragging my pathetic body away from my dad when ever he entered the room.

"Never again!" I swore.

"Let's go out again! You'll love it!" he said.

"Never."

But, Monday rolled around and with it the first day of summer conditioning. Still fully intending never to run again, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the doorbell ring and saw Paula standing on my front porch. She was dressed to run, a huge smile on her face, and she was a senior, a senior!

"You ready?" Her smile wavered slightly as she saw what I was wearing. Flip flops, my bathing suit top and a pair of koolots (hey it was 1992, don't judge me by my fashion) was my usual summer attire and not particularly conducive to running.

"Oh, is it time already?" I backpedaled. Here was the captain of the cross country team, a senior, standing on my porch, wanting me to get in the car with her, her car (!), and go hang out with her, even though it meant running. How could I pass that up? I knew I would be the envy of all my friends, now that I was best friends with a senior! I would be so cool.

I threw on a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, riffled through the trash bin for my new running shoes and jumped in the car.

I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.