I was talking with some people recently about being a beginner. I have always been a champion of the idea that you can start anything at any age. There’s a quote I love that says:
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
However, I do believe the single hardest thing to be a beginner at is running. Every time I begin running (once every six months or so), it is the most uncomfortable and physically painful experience of my life. Inevitably I pick the wrong clothes – my shirt rides up, my pants fall down. My lungs feel like they’re about to give out at any moment and I think my heart may explode. I feel like everyone who drives by is gawking at me like “whoa, check out that chick with the bright red face who’s somehow tangled her headphones in her ponytail.” I can never breath when I done and I always develop a week long, hacking cough. Yet I still keep trying, every six months, because I really do want to be a runner. So despite the horrendous wardrobe malfunctions and physical trauma, I am a proud beginner.