Some runners are automatic. Day in, day out, they hop on treadmills, negotiate cross-country trails, or sidestep pedestrians and cars in the city. It’s as if “Just do it” was baked into their DNA.

I am not one of them. Despite my efforts, I still get discouraged and have to continually assure myself while running that “I can do it.”

To be fair, I haven’t run that much. I ran the 400m in grade school, taking the coveted, second-to-last-place finish at state finals. I ran religiously for four months in 2005, after making a fleeting new year’s resolution, which resulted in my quitting. And I ran intensively for another four months last year in preparation for a half-marathon, an event I had to postpone due to a ruptured disc in my lower back, which also put my running on hold until earlier this month.

I admit that my limited running accomplishments get me through my runs better than I would without, but I feel almost as discouraged now as I did while training for my first long-distance race. Is it unrealistic to hope to become a robot runner — one that doesn’t have to play mind games during every workout — say after running three times weekly for an entire year? I’ll keep on trucking regardless, but it sure would be nice.

Lindsey, my father-in-law, and I ran our first 10k at the Provo Freedom Festival on Saturday. Although I ran (ahem, slow-jogged) the entire 6.2 miles, my right leg now feels like jell-o. Nevertheless, I think I’m falling in love with this running business. Regarding the “medal,” I felt silly wearing it because the promoters gave one to all 1125 runners (unique, just like everyone else).