I’ve been running for a long time. Not very fast (6 mph on a good day for maybe a half mile) and not very far (my longest so far has been a marathon) but I run. I’m pleased to say that I’ve inspired some to start running, some to keep running, and still others to take up running again.
But what is it that makes me run? What is it that gets me out on the road or on my treadmill? Why am I a runner?
In no particular order, here are 10 things I love about running. I love
the endorphins
that it feeds my inner planner (training plans, training paces, trips for races)
that I can catch up with television shows on my treadmill
that a good run leaves me feeling strong, powerful, and invincible
that a bad run leaves me looking forward to the next run in hopes that it will be better
the “me” time
the sound of my footsteps on the pavement or my treadmill
the meditative nature of my morning runs
the stress-relieving nature of my evening runs
that some days I run further than some people drive
This list is a good reminder of why I run but it also helps me appreciate the fact that I can run. If I could no longer run, I would miss all of these things. It makes me want to hop on my treadmill right now, even though I ran in a 10k this morning and it’s 2230 right now.
What do you love about running? What would you miss about running if you couldn’t run again?
Time is an interesting construct. Memory is an interesting construct, as well.
When I was running the NWM 26.2 last October, I distinctly remember thinking, “I’m not ever going to do this again.” I remember thinking “never again” when I was caught up in the gear check scrum where I thought I was going to die from suffocation or claustrophobia, whichever came first. I remember thinking “never again” as the marathoners split from the half-marathoners and I realized that I had a long way to go. I remember thinking “never again” as I ran past the finish line on my way to another 8 miles or so of joyous running.
I remember thinking that I wasn’t going to be one of those people who said, “I’m never going to do this again” during the race only to turn around and say, “I’ll do better next time.” No sir, not me.
When I finally finished, though, I remember thinking, “Well, I couldn’t do any worse next time.”
And as the hours turned into days and the days turned into months, that niggling thought continued to percolate in my brain. I knew I could do better if I trained properly, if I took my training schedule seriously, if I didn’t think about gutting it out on race day. I knew I could.
I hadn’t intended to sign up for the NWM virtual half-marathon – I wanted to concentrate on training for the April half-marathon that I had in mind. When I saw the announcement that all members of the largest team would be given an automatic opportunity to register for the NWM – no lottery – I scoffed silently. When I saw the Facebook posts that encouraged everyone to sign up with Team Victorious so that would be the biggest team, I sneered inwardly.
And yet somehow, I wound up signed up with the Nike+ challenge, registered for the NWM virtual half-marathon, and a member of Team Victorious.
This week I received an email from NWM letting me know that as a member of Team Victorious I was entitled to register for the NWM in October without having to go through the lottery. There are a few hoops to jump through but that’s to be expected. I was so excited to get that email. “Yes!” I thought, “thank goodness I registered and that I signed up as a member of Team Victorious!”
As I think about my excitement over that email and compare it to my mental anguish while I was running last October’s NWM 26.2, I have to laugh at myself. And I have to marvel at what amazing things time, space, and memory are.
Time heals all wounds. Time soothes the hurt spirit. Time rebuilds the crushed soul.
Space gives time the room to work. Space allows different experiences to take place. Space lets old thoughts out and new thoughts in.
Memory can be selective, allowing us to either focus on the good or the bad. Memory allows us to consider the possibilities, the what-ifs, the might-have-beens. Memory can hurt if you dwell too long on the bad things without thinking about the possibilities. Memory can help if you remember that what you did in the past doesn’t have to define who you are in the future and what you can accomplish in the future.
My selective memory has focused on a few things – that I could have turned in a better time if I had trained better and been more prepared for the hills, that I really enjoyed the race once I emerged unscathed (except for my missing Nike+ SportBand) from the gear check scrum until the last 8 miles or so, and that entry is lottery-based so it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try to enter. In the intervening weeks and months since the 2011 NWM 26.2, I’ve admitted why the marathon, particularly the last few miles, were so miserable for me – I tried to run a marathon with less than half-marathon training. So time has given me the benefit of honesty with myself as well as the courage and determination to try again.
What’s your memory pushing you away from or pulling you towards? How much time needs to pass before your wounds have healed? What are you going to try again? Do you need to build up courage or determination or both to do it?
I’m not anti-New-Year’s-resolutions. I just don’t do them. For as long as I can remember, I’ve set goals for each calendar year and tracked my progress along the way. Things are no different this year.
For 2012, I identified 7 categories that are important to me and established 3 to 7 goals for each category. I know that I’ll be stretched as I try to attain my goals for the year. That’s usually what I have in mind when I go through my goal-setting exercise – things that take me out of my comfort zone, things that will make me a better person, things that will stimulate me.
As I was refining my goals, I learned about a new concept through a women’s leadership group on Facebook. The idea is that you pick one word and you use that word to guide you during the year. In her 2007 post, Christine Kane called it a Resolution Revolution. The WLI group’s #oneword2012 was gathered and turned into a Wordle.
My #oneword2012? Risk.
It’s a word that I’ve had in mind for many years because I’ve felt that as I’ve become older, I’ve become more cautious and content. It’s a word that I think of – along with “fearless” – whenever I watch young children learn new sports. Or 20-somethings who hop from job to job because they’re looking for something that their current job doesn’t give them. Or 40-somethings who leave a stable, satisfying job to pursue a lifelong passion. Somewhere between childhood and middle age we lose our appetite for risk. The risks we take become more cautious, more calculated, less…well, less risky.
So I chose “risk” for my #oneword2012 to remind me that the safe choice is not always the satisfying choice, that the pragmatic option is not always the passion-fulfilling option, that the expected decision is not necessarily the exceptional decision. As John A. Shedd wrote in 1928, “A ship in harbor is safe — but that is not what ships are built for.” I hope that my #oneword2012 is a constant reminder throughout the year to push and stretch myself and to move out of my comfort zone.
Confessions of a Treadmill Runner 