When I was in high school, I swore I just couldn't run. A couple blocks and I was completely out of breath. I had all sorts of excuses--I just didn't have a runner's body, I said. After all, I certainly didn't look anything like those skinny gals on the track and cross-country teams. Running was not for me.

My husband, up until a year ago, swore he just couldn't run. It hurt his knees. He had a bad ankle. Running was not for him.

The thing is, though, running is about the cheapest and easiest exercise you can get. You need a good pair of shoes (which can be expensive), but then all you do is get out and go. And go. And go.

Now, my husband spent his Sunday morning slogging through 9.3 miles of wretched Portland weather in the Shamrock 15K run. Pretty great for a guy who just can't run, huh?

After we all came home from Portland, I threw on my running clothes and ran the same distance as part of my training program for the Eugene half-marathon on May 3. It wasn't raining, but I was running straight into 9-mile-per-hour winds for miles 4 and 5 of the run. I'm not sure the type of ambulatory motion I was employing at that point really qualifies as running. "Trudging along while swinging my arms and gasping for breath" is probably more like it.

But. I made it. I didn't stop, even when it was hard, and once I turned and the wind was at my back, things were a lot better. Nine miles. It's far. Pretty good for a girl who just can't run.

I'm still a little astounded that Eric and I have gotten into this new hobby of ours. Us, the non-runners, comparing mile times and having discussions about Runner's Lube? (which is not nearly as interesting as it sounds).

However this happened, I'm glad we've gotten into running. We're both healthier than we were a year ago, that's for sure. We'll probably never be the fastest runners in the race--but at least we're in the race, now. And I'm proud of us.