Beata, what a charismatic child! Mature beyond her years.  Ambitious student.  Class clown.  Totally popular.  For sure smart.  A natural leader.  She’ll grow up to be a successful woman.  BUT, Beata, she’s not so athletic.  Sports are a challenge for her. She can barely run a mile.  Not even a single pull up! Fitness Day? Poor thing! More like worse-day-ever.  She was caught cutting PE (Physical Education) class…AGAIN!!!!  Detention…AGAIN!!

My Middle School, where much of my sports trauma took place!

This pretty much sums up most of my teacher’s feedback all through grade school.  All was good, but when it came down to any form of competitive fitness, I was doomed for failure.  And so, I was pegged as the klutzy cool girl.  I adopted this at truth, and refrained from any public sport (except for Speech & Debate…which for YOUR INFORMATION took a category at the sports award ceremony at the end of each year!!).

I also had huge knockers.  I would try every teenage trick in covering up a Triple-D breast size…three sports bras, tight tanks under baggy shirts, and of course, playing deathly sick on days we had to run.  Something about those horny boys and tiny Asian girls that made me squeal on the inside…

I quietly resigned to a private gym and stayed as far as possible from the treadmill. After college, I “maned-up” a bit but always preferred fad diets for weight loss over proper cardio.  But after the breast reduction, I had no more excuses.  And when I made Aliyah, and couldn’t afford a gym, I finally began to run outside.

So participating in the 10K Tel Aviv Nike Night Run last week was far more symbolic than just any ordinary race.  It was a big (non-angry) middle finger to anyone (including myself) who convinced me that I wasn’t cut out for running.  It was a milestone that helped me overcome a deeply rooted fear.  And it was living proof that anything is possible when there’s a 1.) goal 2.) plan, and 3.) practice.  Duh!…I know, you already know this.  Just saying…

20,000 runners!

But here’s the what I loved the most about this experience – from the training to the finish line: the Nike Night Run was an official pass to join the runner’s club, which adheres to a yuppy, healthy lifestyle that I’m admittedly drawn to.  Pacing down the long central boulevard last week was like rubbing shoulders with an elite network.  And since most people would refuse to sign up for a race, I set myself apart from the average…not settling for less…and realizing an adulthood that in fact my teacher’s and family expected from me all along!

Finish line!