There was a period of time in my life that I was single. Twelve years ago I found myself divorced.
Fortunately, my ex-husband and I kept doing what we were great at – being friends and parenting our kids. Eventually I knew I’d date. I was terrified. I had nine kids, worked and had this illness, this disease, called “Running”.
My first blind date via a friend and my daughter asked me, "Don't you want to date a runner?”. I wanted someone who had the same desire to live a healthy lifestyle. I wanted to be on the same page with exercise and diet. Someone who understood my running disease. Someone who would buy me running socks for the heck of it and ask me regularly if I needed new running shoes. Perhaps a man who would be my biggest fan, cheer me on, wait endlessly in horrid weather at finish lines, crew me on a bike or in a car. Was that too much to ask? My next blind date went so well, we're still together. Basketball and golf were what Chris enjoyed. He'd never run on anything but a treadmill. The first time he asked to go running with me, he later told me he thought I was going to kill him. He lived through the spitting, snot rockets and farting (which I thoroughly warned him about) and still thought I was hot. He regularly asks if I need new shoes and doesn't think my dresser is weird. He is my biggest fan. Now that he's completed his first 5K (although he's run up to 7 miles) I can share how I got him to embrace my disease:
• I asked him to join me with the kids at aid stations
• He ran me in the last mile of a half marathon - I wanted him to feel the energy without being exhausted
• Every time we could get together with my runner friends I wanted him there with me.
• I told him how much it meant to me that he was at the finish line. Fortunately, he enjoys it
• He crewed me on the bike, asked questions and learned slowly all about my insanity.
• We ran together and I really didn't care if he went ahead (but seriously, how can he be faster than I am?!)
• I got him running gear - he learned how comfortable it is to run with the right clothing. He said it made a big difference.
• We read through my magazines and he actually looked up information.
• His first 5K, I was at the turnaround aid station so I got to cheer him on ridiculously. RIDICULOUSLY. He loved it
• I listened to him bitch about how hard running is, how much training can suck, how muscles he wasn’t aware of hurt, how slow he felt during that first 5K. Then, we chose the next race.
