At this moment, in my 39th year (2009) I am a communications coordinator for a university in London Ontario Canada. I took up running on a whim 5 years ago after returning to Canada from England.
But it’s the stuff that got me here that makes me who I am.
The beginning …
I was born in Northern Ireland in 1970. After the death of my older sister from meningitis and the ‘troubles’ in Ireland, my parents decided to leave. My dad took a job in Trinidad. Life was now filled with mangos, coconut trees and sunshine. We stayed for 8 years, then my dad took a job in Canada. We moved from white sands to 3 feet of snow.
The travel bug …
At the end of highschool I got the travel bug. I wanted to see the world. I’m not the type to take a year off and then go to the university. I knew I couldn’t do that. So I compromised. I went to university in Ireland. The deal I sold my parents on was one year. One year I would come back to Canada and finish university here. I fell in love with Ireland and a boy. I stayed for four years, picked up some biting wit and married the boy.
Then moved to England.
After 4 years, my marriage fell apart, I left and 3 days later I started dating a tennis pro, I moved in on our second date, then he broke my heart with a single phone call 2 years later.
That’s when my world fell apart. I was suddenly alone. To be honest I had no idea how to be alone or who I was. I was no longer someone’s someone. I was me and I didn’t have the foggiest who that was.
I spent a year drinking copious amount of alcohol, eating chips and smoking Silk Cuts. I dated, all the wrong ones. I dated some of the right ones. I travel all over Europe and Africa. I dyed my hair, changed my job I still didn’t know who I was.
coming home …
Then in 2001, I got a phone call, my mom had breast cancer, she is now cancer free. It was like a wake up call. I moved back to Canada in August 2001.
Then in 2004 I found running. Completely by accident. A friend wanted to do a charity 5k race in July, she asked me if I would run it with her, it was June. I say yes, absolutely, one because she was a friend and it was a good cause, but two, 5k that’s not very far and I go to the gym 3 sometimes 4 times a week. Four weeks before the race I decided to run 5k on the tread mill to see what time I should expect (would I be in position to win). After 2k I wanted to stop. By 2.5k I did. What had I agreed to?
For the next 4 weeks I ran 3 times a week, working my way up to 5k.
Race day came, it was the middle of summer, hot and humid. I wore cotton everything, didn’t hydrate and ran the first km like it was 100m sprint. I finished the race, never walking once, although my legs and lungs begged me to. I crossed the line and swore I would never ever, no matter what the cause, or who asked, I would never run again.
The next morning I woke up and thought, what if I joined a group and trained maybe I could do better? That day I walked into Runners’ Choice. I started finding myself.
This, this is the journey to where ever I need to go. Along the way, there are dating dilemmas, stupid blonde moments, running and challenges I feel compiled to attempt.
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