In ninth grade, I quit field hockey on the second day of practice because my coach wanted of all us to run a mile. My response was, essentially, "Fuck that."
The first time I ran a mile -- ran the complete mile, without a break -- was my senior year of college, a full seven years later. I felt amazing on that day.
Today, I felt disappointed in myself because I could only manage to eke out two miles because my ankles were killing me (note to self: stop wearing heels so often). That was two solid miles of running, and I felt bad because I couldn't go further.
I'm just sharing this because I'm pleased with how my mind frame has changed. I know I can be better and do better.
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