I come from a relatively large family. Certainly in today’s terms its pretty large. I have three sisters and three brothers and my place is second in line. My childhood was relatively uneventful. I was no athlete and don’t remember anyone I knew ever using that term to describe themselves. Now I don’t mean I didn’t take part in school sports, because I did. For me, team sports were a special form of torture. I am by nature, a fairly solitary person and really struggled with (hated) softball, volleyball, field hockey etc. Our school didn’t have a track and field team, and I’m sure, if it had, the concept of running in circles around a track would have seemed absurd to me anyway when I was a teenager.

My idea of the perfect sport was reading Trashy Romance Novels. I didn’t know anyone who participated in sports after they finished college, but I knew lots of people who read books until they were well into their twenties (just a smidge of sarcasm there). So imagine my surprise, when I found myself, when well into my twenties, (perhaps even well past my twenties) lacing up a pair of training shoes one evening. I was going to an aerobics class at the community centre. I had lots of time, so I decided to run/walk to the class. Well, I went to the aerobics class that night, but found it to be much like school sports, way too competitive, with most of the women wearing cooler clothes than mine. I decided I enjoyed getting to the class better than going to the class, so the next week, I just went for a run instead.

How does that relate to the title of my story? That run, that night, was the first run anyone in my family ever took...but not the last. There is apparently a latent family gene that kicks in around 30 years of age. Since I took that first run back in 1982, all three of my younger brothers have become serious runners, one of them having qualified for and ran the Boston Marathon at least three times while in his 30’s and early 40’s. One of my sisters is also a running freak, willing to travel across Canada to run various half marathons with me. My youngest sister called me on New Year's Day 2006 to say that she had signed up online for a Learn to Run Clinic. Apparently she has a really really latent version of the gene too. Last year my oldest daughter turned 31 and ran her first half marathon.

My granddaughter, who is 11 years old, thinks we are definitely the weirdest family she has ever heard of. She tells us all how she is definitely not going to be a runner. She says we are all either crazy or from another planet and must be stopped. I say, check back in 19 years, and when you’re ready, I’ll run the Boston Marathon with you. I’ll be 70+ years old and will probably be able to qualify in my age group.