I'm still new to the whole running/racing thing, so I can't speak to the number of events I have yet to do. But you can read the funny version of why I decided to do the Goofy in the Bio thread.
Here are a couple of more serious answers:
1) This one comes from the C25K thread main WISH board. I posted it in February, as I was working through the program post-Goofy (my first event):
You know, over the course of last year's training and then this year's commitment to C25K, I've been noticing that my body isn't the only thing that's changed. I think that becoming a runner is making me a better person. It will probably sound overdramatic to credit these things to running--and I'll admit there are other things I'm doing in my life that contribute to my changes. But running has made a huge difference in my life, in all its forms (W/R, R/W, R, and even my speed walking).
Running hasn't made me smarter--and I'm pretty sure I've lost some serious brain cells right around the time of my first ice bath. It hasn't made me richer--and may indeed be contributing to my future in a local poorhouse. It hasn't made me a better networker or writer or scholar. But running is helping me appreciate what my body can do and has made me more accepting of my limitations. Running is helping me become more patient and tolerant. It is teaching me to celebrate my successes and to realize that I'm not competing with anyone but me. And in realizing these things about myself, I find it so much easier to see all the good things in other people, to celebrate others' accomplishments, and to want them to enjoy the same peace of mind I'm finding.
2) This one is a fuller back story. Pretty dull and boring, but the most self-reflective answer I've got:
I've spent most of my life at odds with my body. No, I didn't do the stereotypical woman thing and hate my body for its "imperfections." I just wasn't very in tune with it. Somewhere in my formative years, I'd gotten the message that I was the smart one in the family and my brother was the athlete. So being active wasn't really part of my make up, I thought. Instead, I embraced my path as an academic, the artist, the hedonist who lived to eat and drink. (I'd even say an intellectual, but I don't think I'm smart enough for that label.) And the separation between mind and body seemed to work for me--it kept me solidly in my comfort zone.
Then, about 10 years ago, things began to change. Lots of reasons why, beyond the inevitable aging. One of the biggest one, as many of you know, was being diagnosed with ovarian cancer and all the things that went with it: chemo, CAT scans, operations. it. Let me tell you, I hated this body of mine for betraying me. How could it get in the way of the things that were really important to me, like dusty library archives and Winsor McCay films? I went from being able to ignore my physical body to having to pay attention to it and its needs. But slowly, as I learned to listen to the demands of my body, I began to question the artificial divide I'd put between mind and body. I began to wonder what would happen if I embraced my physicality. So over the course of many years, I became more active. It didn't happen overnight, and I didn't wake up on morning and decide I was going to run. But as I began to realize, late in life for a person who'd always prided herself on her intelligence, the importance of the mind-body connection.
And eventually, I figured out that so many people I knew found a kind of peace and joy in running that maybe, just maybe, I should try it. Including DOOD, my mentor, my coach, and my inspiration. And you, my WISH team, in whom I find my support and my roles models. Running has given me more than I could ever expect, and events help me experience that peace and joy with others.
So I run for myself, because in running I discover better who I am and a better version of me at that. And, to co-opt a Melissa Ethridge song, I run for (my) life. Because I've only got one, and running helps me make the most of it.
