So why the reference to the incorrect cheer that brings me back to my days of glory?
Because, people, it's...
I knew that part of the program was PT and to be placed in a group, each corps member would be tested on push-ups, sit-ups, and running a mile and a half. A mile and a half! It may as well have been a million.
I am competitive.
Always have been.
So I decided I would start running so I would NOT be in the lowest group. My first run was with my dad, who (unknowingly) tricked me into doing 2 miles instead of 1, and the whole time I thought I hate this, I hate this. As I continued to run, the words slowly changed to just keep running, just keep running and eventually faded away all together.
I was hooked.
I don't remember how long it took me to finish the mile and a half during the test, but I know it was enough to put me in the second fastest group. Whew.
We ran every morning at 5:30 during training. I fell in love.
By the end of the year I had completed my first 10K and I had fallen in love with so many other things. My team. My friends. Sacramento. Portland. Hawaii. San Francisco. Kids. Trees. Trails. Early mornings. Late nights. Subway sandwiches. Sore bodies. Billy Billy Bop.
Here's my team: Blue 7. The Superfreaks.
We dressed like this to go to the movie theaters
We played lots of silly games
We created still lifes (Santa on a sleigh with his reindeer, of course)
We learned how to hula at a Senior center
We saved a lot of cars from the mud (mostly our own)
And so much more.
Thank you Blue 7, thank you Team Friends, and thank you AmeriCorps for giving my such an amazing year, bringing out my love of running, and developing my passion for service.