Complete a Half Marathon, Item #7 Part 1

When I was kid, I used to love running. The overwhelming majority of my childhood memories had something to do with me running. In elementary school, you could not beat me on track and field day. In middle school, I was the master of the 800m and 1600m, and I was in the top 10 for cross country finals both years. I stopped being involved in school sports in high school, but nothing could stop me from running every day after school. I would run four miles, in boots and regular clothing, through desert, up hills, on surface streets, and whatever else I could find.

Then came the Army. Most people who new me both before, and after, my four years of service would agree that the Army changed me for the worse. Without parental supervision, and no longer in boot camp, I found alcohol. What I did not find was a parental figure to guide me through those crucial years from 18-22. I was allowed to run amok, and I did. Skipping through a ton of stuff that I have no desire to speak about, my father died from cancer in 2002. I came home from South Korea just days before he passed and left all too soon thereafter.

Upon returning to Korea, I came to realized that I did not just lose my father, I lost something inside of me that I have not yet been able to regain. I do not know what it is, but I can still feel it is missing. Shortly after returning for my final few months of service, my unit was doing its morning physical training. During this morning's particular run, something weird happened to my knee. Just so everyone knows, do not get hurt in the Army. Their cure for everything is to drink water. The medics and doctors do not heal you, they keep you from dying, it's the Army. Needless to say, my knee was never right afterwards. This, tied in with my severe emotional distress, was no help with the bottle.

To sum up the next few years after my discharge, my drinking became a problem. I treated everyone I loved like shit, hurt my friends, used who ever was in my path, and insulted total strangers for no reason. I became selfish, self-centered, and pretty self destructive. To heal a huge, gaping wound, I chose a band aid that was actually worse for me than the pain I was ignoring. Everyone paid for that, myself included.

The selfish part of my Bucket List is to find a way to be a better, healthier person and lead a good life. The sort of life I had prior to my service, filled with friends and joy. I have come to the conclusion that the best thing I can do for my own happiness is to go back to the way things were before I turned into such a miserable person, and that is to run.

I may be a fool, but I am no idiot. Running long distances is not something one jumps right into, especially when considering my circumstances. I am a thirty year old man who hasn't run since 2002, I weigh 240 pounds, and, before now, I never had a reason to run. I also need to radically alter my diet. The first thing that has to go, regardless of the running, is the alcohol. We had some fun times, but they do not make up for the wasted money, time, or damaged and destroyed relationships. Next, and I am sad to say this, is soda. I also have to cut back on eating meat, start eating fruits and vegetables, along with some other small changes.

I am trying to get into good enough shape to complete a half marathon within the next four to six months, if I can find one. I think I can reasonably, and safely, get down to about 190-205 pounds, run the entire half marathon, and be sober and healthy the whole way through all of it. Once I have done this, then I will know that staying sober, being healthy, and running a full marathon will not be a problem. That marathon will be the PF Chang Rock'n'Roll Marathon in January 2011.

The ultimate goal here is to be the sort of person I was before the Army, happy. I am hoping that, through running, I will find the joy that I once had, sort out all of the nonsense in my head, and deal with the emotions that I have repressed for way too long. I might even be able to fix a few of those damaged relationships.