You think I can't? Then I will.

For the past five years, I've had a New Year's resolution to run a 5K. And for five years I've failed to accomplish that feat.

Oh, I've started training multiple times. Then I'd get injured or lazy or busy and give up. I like the idea of being a runner, but the application of it is always painful.

And even though I didn't actually make resolutions this year, I still wanted to check a 5K off my bucket list. So I started training in January to run the Komen Race for the Cure in Waco on April 24. As in yesterday.

To backtrack, nearly two years ago I ran in the Cancer Challenge with Jennifer and Lonnie. Jennifer the track star finished in less than 26 minutes (without training). Lonnie finished in just over 33 minutes. I lagged behind at over 44 minutes, being passed by a lady with an oxygen tank, an 85-year-old man, and multiple women pushing strollers. And that's not bad considering I actually ran less than a mile of the race.

Last April Jen and I did the Waco Komen race with plans to run the whole thing. I made it just over a mile before pooping out and walking most of the rest. In November, at the Austin Komen race, we didn't walk a step. And just after that race, Lonnie told me that I'd never be able to run 3 miles.

Game on.

So in January I started training. Using Hal Higdon's workout, I worked my way up to three miles on the treadmill. Then I moved outside, running three or four times a week. I started noticing that my body was reshaping. I was feeling more in condition. I was gaining endurance.

When I was in Temple three weeks ago for Easter, Lonnie and I took all four boys to the trails to run. I made it a mile or so before giving up. Two weeks ago I puked on mile marker #2 during the JBU fun run.

To say I was skeptical of my chances yesterday was an understatement.

But we arrived in Waco yesterday to pick up our chips. The race started 40 minutes late. We started in the back of the pack with the old ladies and a man with a mullet.

Not wanting to start too fast, I begged Jennifer to run off and leave me, but she refused. We slowly jogged for a few seconds, then she said, "You just set the pace." I replied, "This IS the pace."

It took us about 12 minutes to finish the first mile, which is pretty good for me, considering it usually takes me about 40 minutes to do three miles. We jogged on, passing a few recreational runners along the way. We passed the water station and began overtaking the walkers who started 40 minutes before we did. I looked at my watch about 25 minutes in and wondered if we'd ever get to the two-mile marker.

I began to doubt my ability to finish the race without walking. I was feeling okay at that point, but a bit discouraged at the fact that we hadn't finished the second mile.

At just under 30 minutes, Jen finally spotted the mile marker. For mile #3.

We turned onto the bridge to finish the race, looked up at the clock, and realized that we made amazing time. We crossed the finish line simultaneously, me in victory of finally running an entire 5K, and Jennifer being a supportive friend and foregoing her great time to hang out with me in the slow lane.

Final time: 31:06. Granted, that's five minutes slower than Jennifer's last time, but it's a full two minutes faster than Lonnie's. Ha!

But my feeling of victory is tainted due to the fact that Lonnie thinks we're lying. He says I'm incapable of running three miles, so we either: (a) gave my chip to someone else to wear; or (b) took a short cut.

Jen and I know the truth. I finished. I rock. I feel fantastic.

So thanks to Lonnie for the unintended motivation. My jeans fit better. I am in better health. And I proved you wrong, sucka.