الرياضة من اساسيات الحياة - سجى باكير- الجزء 2/1

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always been involved in sports. My mother, who has always been my inspiration and role model, was one of the most dedicated people when it came to practicing sports. I grew up with a love for sports, and my mother was the first to plant the seeds of that love within me, until sports became an essential part of my life.

I was 20 years old when I enrolled at the University of Bologna in Italy as part of a cultural exchange program. I lived in Bologna for about a year, during which time I learned a great deal, developed as a person, and grew to love the Western lifestyle.

I returned to my homeland, Jordan, carrying in my heart so much love and longing for the friends with whom I spent the most beautiful days of my life in Italy. I felt a great sense of emptiness and began thinking about enrolling in a master’s program—not for any particular reason, but simply to return to the place where I had found myself in Bologna. At the same time, however, I tried to be realistic in my thinking; I had to keep myself busy with something meaningful, so I started applying for jobs related to my field of study and joined a gym for the first time in my life. I did weight training and group classes, and then I was hired as a teacher at one of the best schools in the capital, Amman. I tried to focus on my new job, kept up with my workouts, and began to see the benefits in terms of my physical fitness and appearance.

I started running in 2017. One of my fellow teachers, “Melanie”—a foreigner living in Jordan—was a regular runner, and I saw in her a vitality and energy that I didn’t see in any of our other fellow teachers or my friends outside of school. It also brought back many memories of my student days in Italy, where I used to see lots of people running either early in the morning or in the evening.

I asked her once, “What motivates you to go running?” She went on at length describing what her eyes saw and the feeling that filled her heart from those places her legs took her to while running, then she said, “Why don’t you come with me and experience it for yourself?” “I’ll give it a try,” I said, recalling the European lifestyle I’d come to love—after all, this is at least one of the good habits Europeans enjoy.

One autumn morning that year—a beautiful, sunny morning—I put on my running shoes and left the house early, heading to the Jabal Amman area to meet Melanie so we could go for a run together, as we’d agreed. I arrived a few minutes late; as I walked toward her, I waved from a distance to let her know I’d arrived. She smiled when she saw me coming toward her and said, “I thought you weren’t going to come. I was starting to think I’d wait another five minutes and then just go on my own.” I apologized for being late and said, “I’m not used to waking up at this time.”

So we set off and started running; we ran about ten kilometers. I was able to run that distance because I sometimes ran on the treadmill at the gym. We finished our run and headed to our favorite spot for our morning coffee. “Melanie,” I asked her, “have you ever participated in a race?” “No, I haven’t,” she replied, “but I know from several friends of mine that it’s worth trying.” “What do you think about doing it together?” I asked her again. She opened her eyes as she took a sip of her hot coffee, then said, “I can tell you enjoy running. It sounds exciting to me. I’ll ask one of my friends about the races organized here in Jordan.” And we agreed to set a new goal to work toward together: a half-marathon!

Melanie came back with the news just two days later; it will be organized Race half Marathon The Dead Sea next April, a race held annually and organized by a foundation Run للاردن Run Jordan every April. After a quick search on the Nike Run Club app—which we had been using to track our running history—we found the training plan we would follow to prepare for the first half marathon of our lives, and we began our training in January 2017.

Cold weather under clear skies, gusty winds, and heavy rain—the skies over the capital, Amman, brought it all together, just as they do every January. But Melanie and I never stopped running; we were determined to prepare for the half-marathon. Personally, I loved listening to stories and tips from a group of athletes on the “audio-guided runs” app while I ran— There was so much in them that resonated with me, inspired me, or even made me forget my fatigue and the cold weather. Milani and I kept training, and our enthusiasm grew more and more as April approached.

Every day when I returned home from my workout, exhausted and worn out, I’d make a cup of hot coffee, put on some warm clothes, and sit down at my little desk to jot down my personal experiences in my notebook, filling it with motivational quotes I’d collected here and there. I’d follow updates from my inspirational figures in the running world, such as the well-known Egyptian runner Manal Rostom, and reach out to her through her social media pages to let her know about my latest achievements and my race preparations. I remember how happy I was the first time she replied to one of my messages, before I realized just how wonderful and humble she was after she answered all my questions and inquiries and offered me valuable advice.

The day I had been waiting for so long had finally arrived. The race was to take place in the Dead Sea region, about fifty kilometers from the capital, Amman. To ensure I would be ready on time to compete in the race, I booked a room at a hotel in the Dead Sea area and headed there on Thursday afternoon. No one accompanied me that day, and I had deliberately chosen to go alone, as my feelings and emotions were mixed—I was extremely excited, a little nervous, I couldn’t wait for Friday to dawn and mark the start of the race. It was hard for me to focus on anything other than the race, so I preferred to be alone, I gathered my focus and thought about the race I’d been waiting for so long. As soon as night fell, I went to my room, checked my clothes and gear, and went to bed, hoping I’d be able to fall asleep quickly.

I didn’t need an alarm to wake up; I woke up about a full hour before it was set to go off. I got out of bed and started getting ready. Finally, the day I’ve been waiting for since last January had arrived, and in just a few hours, the first race of my life would begin. It’s true that I’ve participated in a 10-kilometer event before, but it wasn’t a race in the true sense of the word—even the name of the event was “Fun Run.” Today’s race, however, differs in both form and substance from the one I participated in previously; it is a race in every sense of the word.

I opened my bag and took out the oats and bananas I’d brought with me. I used them to prepare a light breakfast that would give me plenty of energy. I ate it quickly and left the room for the race’s starting line, which was no more than a few hundred meters from where I was staying. I arrived and started looking for my friend Melanie, who was supposed to arrive that morning. I almost gave up hope of finding her because of the huge crowd of participants at the starting line, but I finally found her, and we began warming up together.

It was a hot day, which gave me yet another reason to want to finish the race quickly. Melanie and I ran at the same pace and finished the race in about the same time—two hours and twenty minutes. We received our medals, chatted for a bit, and I returned to the hotel overjoyed by my personal achievement—something I never imagined was possible. I decided to treat myself to a lavish breakfast and a special cocktail as a reward for the exceptional effort I’d put in that day. I ate my breakfast, occasionally glancing at my medal, which had been hanging around my neck ever since I received it at the finish line. That evening, I returned to Amman and went out to celebrate with my friends, my face beaming with pride and joy! The highlight that followed the half-marathon, however, was joining a group Running Amman In the summer of 2018, which I had heard about many times during my participation in races Run Jordan I saw some of them taking group photos at the start and finish lines of the race. I also met Julia, one of the team’s runners who was also a friend of Melanie’s. I remember very well the first run I did with the group in May of that year in the Abdoun area—how I performed then—and how, over time, I’ve come a long way in running thanks to the support I received from the group members!