such great heights

Just recently finished my first practice run in preparation for my first climb for the organization I joined (UP Mountaineers).

I was quite nervous that day, both anticipating and dreading the thing that I was about to partake in. You see, all the applicants had to run 6.6 km around the campus as a prerequisite for the upcoming climb. But the thing is, I have never ran 5 km straight much less 6.6 kilometers so had to do some hard digging to find enough determination to finish that run. Our trainer advised us that we should finish the run at around 45 minutes or less but anything longer than that was acceptable just as long as you don’t give up.

After a few stretching exercises, we were lead to the start of the run where applicants were to be accompanied by “pacers”, runners who were far more experienced that were there to help the new ones, and where the head trainer waited and timed the applicants.

I started slowly the first few meters, pacing myself so as not to be burned out easily. The first of three laps was fairly easy but the second lap was like hell. I felt my feet and knees burning up and my mouth was fastly becoming very dry, due mostly in part to the water I had drank (or lack thereof) before the run. Then as I was approaching the end of the second lap. I just stopped. My mind was going a hundred miles a minute but my body did not just cooperate. I felt really felt betrayed by myself. Which was a really weird feeling to say the least.

Thoughts inundated my mind regarding the run. “Should I finish my run or should I just quit? Can I finish it in time? Will I completely pass out after this?” These questions and many more flooded my head unrelentlessly so I decided to just count to five then continue to run. Five seconds had passed and I summoned up the vestiges of my pride and just ran like my life depended on it. Along the way, I saw our head trainer and as I was approaching him, he gladly accompanied me to finish the rest of my run.

A few onerous minutes had passed and I could already see the finish line. With the last ounces of strength I had, I ran up as fast as I could just to prove myself that, indeed, I could finish the run. And I did.

I finished the run in about 47 minutes which wasn’t bad at all, considering it was my first run. But I wanted to finish it below the 45-minute mark so I was somewhat disappointed.

During the commute back home, I was very quiet. I thought about what had just happened and what I had just done. Then I realized that running that first run 2 minutes above the recommended finish time wasn’t a bad thing at all. It gave me and it still gives me the drive to do better and to never give up on anything. I got to see and test the limits of my abilities which I have never done before. Ever.
The most important thing was that I never gave up and just continued to run despite some minor setbacks.

I promise to do better next time.