Thursday, May 21, 2009

Peer Pressure and a Mini-Marathon

I kinda, sorta, maybe, probably* committed myself to run a mini-marathon in late September. Now before you get all "Good for you, go get 'em girl" about it on me, let me paint a little picture for you. I hate to run.

I swam in college for Purdue. Only I was pretty sure when I got there that I had accidentally joined the track team. The coaches called it conditioning. I called it "WTH. I can't believe I am waking up at 5 AM to run in painful circles and waddle around campus for three weeks." Now don't get me wrong. I did the running. But I complained the whole time. I bet the rest of the girls were secretly happy I was so slow, so they would'nt have to hear me whine. And sure I got a little better every year, and learned to train for the conditioning (though I always thought it was ridiculous that I was training for the conditioning...) but I never, EVER enjoyed those mornings.

After the last run of my senior year I promised myself: I will never run again. Unless, naturally, I am trying to escape death from a bear or something.

Enter peer pressure. When I first got to college there were fourteen other girls in the freshman class with me on the swim team (yes, that is a ton.) We called ourselves the "Freshman 15." Cute, huh? Well, we were a freaking cult. Ate together, swam together, partied together, and thought we were the bomb diggity together. Back then these girls peer pressured me into things like Edward 40-hands, flippy-cup tournaments, beer pong, etc. Which, naturally didn't take that much coercing. Then we graduated and everyone moved to different parts of the country. Texas, Vegas, Alaska, Virginia, California, blah, blah, blah. It's not so fun, that we are all spead out of the country-- but I'll always have someone to visit wherever I go.

And yesterday I got an e-mail from one of the freshman 15 to all the rest of us. And long story short, we are all running a freaking mini-marathon. Now, I don't know exactly when peer pressure to binge drink turned into peer pressure to run for hours, and I'm not sure I like it-- but I am going to try-- and by golly there better be fourteen girls throwing beer on me when I pass the finish line...

Love and miss you girls!

P.S. I say kinda, sorta, maybe, probably because I know everyone will still love me if I back out. You know as long as I'm serving beer to them when they finish.

P.P.S I'm adding mini-marathon to my bucket list.

1 comment:

  1. Let's be serious. You spent sides on both sides of the peer pressure adventure that is college. And I MISS you!