I’m not a runner.

That would be equivalent to calling someone who knows how boil water a chef. Or calling someone who writes out a grocery list a prize-winning author. Or…well, you get the idea. I began running about 6 months ago, looking for something to do to stay in shape. I had spent the previous 6 months playing around with exercise – attending free aerobics classes in Fayetteville, doing an 8-mile walk that left me without a toenail (long story…), and a couple of Saturday bike rides around Lake Fayetteville. But I wasn’t really consistent with anything, and I knew that I had to try something or I would go crazy.

I began slowly, walking around the neighborhood and jogging the length of a house or two along the way. Eventually I worked up the courage to download the C25K (Couch to 5k) app on my iPhone, syncing it up with an iPod playlist I created just for working out (it was aptly titled, “Working Out”). I used our apartment complex’s free gym, hoping to reduce the possibility of embarrassment by jogging on the treadmill around 8am – late enough that most people were at work or school, and early enough that the rest of them were still asleep. I huffed and puffed my way through the first few weeks of C25K, slowly despising all the songs I’d assigned to my awesome playlist. I felt like a failure most of the time, assuming anyone with real skill would breeze through the first weeks of the program. And worst of all, I didn’t lose a single pound.

At about the same time, my friend Alicia was training for a half-marathon in Indiana. She was a new mom, and still managed to get up early and run around her neighborhood for over an hour several times a week. Our conversations would go something like this:

Me: Did you run today?
Alicia: Yeah, I did 9 miles this morning. It was a good run. How about you?
Me: I walk/jogged 2 miles. Mostly walked. It was rough.

Things went on like this for a few months. I jogged a few miles a couple of times each week, trying to build my endurance or my stamina or whatever I was supposed to be building. Alicia was always very supportive, giving me advice about soreness and pacing myself and the importance of good shoes. And eventually, I started to kinda like it. I looked forward to my morning run, especially once cooler weather set in and I could jog at a steady pace while watching Good Morning America at the gym. Robin Roberts and I became good friends, and Sam Champion always had a smile for me as he shared the weather forecast.

Finally, after several motivational speeches to myself in front of the mirror, I signed up for a 5k that was set for December 11th, the day after my 29th birthday. I found a training program and scheduled specific runs each week. I actually felt energized and healthy (though I still didn’t lose a pound). I told people I was going to run a 5k, not because I was proud, but because I knew I couldn’t chicken out if my friends and family knew I signed up. After two months of training, which could also be called “Kelly tries to run 3.1 miles straight but never succeeds,” I told myself that it was a charity race, I already paid my fees, and I could walk the whole thing if I wanted. So I spent my birthday celebrating with friends and family, eating a sizable slice of triple-layer vanilla cake with buttercream frosting (homemade, I might add..my friends are legit), and generally enjoying myself.

The morning of the 5k was cold. 21 degrees to be exact, which does not feel great to a girl who wears layers in the summer (no, really). My husband stood out in the sub-freezing temperatures with me, promising me a Starbucks peppermint mocha after the race because a husband should always know how to motivate his wife. As the runners were called up to the starting line, I felt completely out of place. I was honestly waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say, Go home sweetie. You know you shouldn’t be here. But no one did. The horn blasted and I, along with dozens and dozens of other people, started running.

Despite all my fears and hesitations, I actually finished the race without passing out. And I wasn’t the last runner, which was quite a delightful surprise to me. I was cold, tired, and sore, but happier than I would have ever imagined. I kept saying, I did it, I actually did it! Did you see me?! To which my husband lovingly responded, Yes, I got pictures! It was wonderful.

I am not a runner. But I like running, and that’s a huge improvement. I would have to say, my four main pieces of advice to newbie runners are as follows:

-Get good shoes. It’s ridiculous how much easier it makes things.
-Start slow. Like, slower than you think is necessary. You can run for miles at a slow pace, which makes you feel much more accomplished than bottoming out after 5 minutes of sprinting. You can always work up to a faster pace.
-Find a friend. You’ll need a support system at some point, whether because you don’t see progress, you start making excuses, or you get bored. Use Facebook and Twitter to find running groups and expert runners, then ask them questions about everything.
-Keep trying. Yes, there were weeks I didn’t run, and I seriously considered giving up completely. But I got back on the treadmill, set the speed, and ran. It didn’t feel great or enjoyable or pleasant at all, but I knew it was necessary if I wanted to keep growing.

I’m training for another 5k in March, alongside my husband. Maybe I’ll see you there!

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Kelly writes at Kelly’s Pink Bicycle

“I’m a girl attempting to live out each day with a curiosity so contagious that each person I connect with is glad to have met me. I’m learning to knit, sew, cook, craft, and read with a vigor unknown to me before marriage. Life is amazing, and I want to spread the word!”