The Charlie Sheen of TNT Events

First of all:

THANK YOU!

To the 76 amazing people who have donated to my run so far; you did it! Last Friday afternoon I reached my fundraising goal of $3,500, and let me tell you, I never dreamed that I could raise that much money at all, let alone in 20 days.

It's all if you who make it possible for me to run this race, and it was with those mammoth bragging rights (third highest fundraiser on Canada, baby!) that I forged on into my second music-less group training run. Awake at 6:30 am on a Saturday. Bravely striding forward past the evil scent of Cinnabon. You know the drill. I won't lie - my iPod was concealed in my back pocket should I need to break protocol for this 7K.

But I never had to use it. I nearly made a running friend, but she left me shortly into the run, firstly because I was too slow, and secondly because my conversation skills are considerably limited while I'm trying my utmost to just breathe through my nose. Alternately, she may have run up ahead because she was threatened by my superior fundraising abilities. Who could blame her.

Despite my progress in the friendship area, I was still making none with my enemy - the right side stitch. And so, in the new found spirit of joinery, I jogged up to our most official looking coach, and as I ran alongside him I gasped out my predicament, not unlike the irritating best friend from Malcom in the Middle (remember that atrocious show?).

"Same stitch?" he asked. "Always in that exact same spot?" We discussed (ok, I huffed and nodded, he discussed) the many variables of food and stretching, breathing and hydrating. Yes, I was experimenting with all of these. Would just have to keep at it, I conceded. And then, he looked over at me and he said, "have you ever tried carrying that water bottle in your left hand instead?"

Aha, you're all thinking. What a stupid girl, her alignment was all off from the one sided arm weight. But I wasn't a stupid girl. Halfway through my run I switched the bottle into my left hand and it made no difference - the cramp was firmly entrenched. I finished the distance, but barely.

But wait - I was, in fact, a stupid girl. On Monday night I stepped out onto my porch, water bottle in hand, and thought, I could probably run 3K without water. Might as well give it a shot. And so I ran the scheduled 3K - without a minute of pain. And as I got back to my house, I felt like I could do the same route again. So I did. I might as well have danced that last kilometer of six, and I'm pretty sure I was singing along to my iPod aloud ("excuse me... I might run a little more than I should, tonight..."). I leaped into the living room to announce my success, and if I could have bottled the endorphins that were running through my body, I would have Ebay-ed them for thousands. Or perhaps hoarded them for myself, to use on some dark day in the future.

I couldn't contain my excitement (or even sit down) for about half an hour. My roommate said I was so happy it almost made her want to start running again. Looks like I'm going to have to buy one of those ridiculous belts with all the tiny water bottles that I've always made fun of. They can laugh, I'll be laughing too.