The Beginning: I Hate RunningFlashback to 2010, the year I became a runner. I could see that I was gaining weight and knowing that I would be transferring to a public school the following September, I felt like I had to do something to improve my health. Little did I know how much this decision would change my life. If someone had stopped me on my first run and said, "you'll run two half-marathons before you graduate college", I would have laughed in their face. I was moderately athletic, having played softball and tennis for several years, but I remember my first runs. I stopped at every street corner, doubled over, breathing as if I had just been chased by Michael Myers. Those first few weeks, months, whatever it was, were the most challenging, mentally and physically. Not only did everything hurt, but I felt pathetic for constantly having to stop. I still remember the day I came home and triumphantly told my mom, "I ran a mile without stopping!" Looking back, I think that moment served as a catalyst for the miles and miles to come. At this point, I still despised running. I dreaded it and repeatedly told myself I'd never come to like it, but I really wanted to do something other than sit on my butt after school every day. When I started attending Ken-West, I reconnected with most of my friends from middle school. There are two people from this time in my life that were instrumental in making me a better, more committed runner. First, there was Kate. She was (and still is) a lot like me in terms of our history with food and exercise. She was also an athlete growing up, highly skilled in hockey and softball. Despite being active she struggled, like I did, to keep weight off. During our junior year of high school we became workout and concert buddies. I include the concerts because the types of shows we went to were workouts in themselves. To this day I wonder how many calories we burned on average jumping around and crowd surfing in a Bring Me The Horizon pit. Kate and I started working out together pretty often. By senior year we were going to the gym together every afternoon. Kate and I became a little extreme that year. I used Weight Watchers points and was so committed to it that I lost twenty pounds. I still let myself splurge every once in a while, but I was very consistently aware of my portion sizes. It's also important to note that during my senior year of high school I didn't really have much to stress about. Academics were manageable, I had a great social life, and I had more than enough time to dedicate to diet and exercise. I wanted to be as fit as possible before heading off to college because I knew it would be more difficult to stay in shape and I experienced mounting anxiety about gaining the "Freshman 15". Kate was my rock when it came to the ups and downs of my fitness journey. We kept each other on track, sharing what we ate each day. We pushed each other to work hard at the gym. And we were able to share with each other how food could make us feel. Sometimes anxious, sometimes angry, sometimes happy, sometimes sad, sometimes guilty. Kate had a huge positive impact on my life. The other person who greatly influenced my running was Graham, my boyfriend at the time. During the Fall he ran on the X-Country team, in the Winter he ran Indoor Track, and in the Spring he did Track & Field. At this time, I still stood by my running mantra, "I hate this, but it works so I'll do it." I didn't consider myself a "runner". I used to tell people, "I run, but I'm not a runner." Graham was a "real" runner, I was worse than average, just trying to keep weight off. Now, I am adamantly against that logic and believe in the John Bingham quote, “If you run, you are a runner. It doesn't matter how fast or how far. It doesn't matter if today is your first day or if you've been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run.” I remember watching Graham's races, talking to him before and after each one, seeing his passion for running and trying to understand the pressure he put on himself to be faster. I remember how a bad race could affect him for days and how euphoric he looked and felt after he set a PR in the mile. We used to jokingly bicker about whether or not running was fun and I'll never forget the time we ran together and he ran backwards in front of me most of the way, laughing. Whenever I would say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I couldn't get any faster than I was he would say, "Yes you can. You don't think so, but if you trained, especially on a team, you'd be faster." I would get angry. "No, you don't understand. I can't make my body go any faster than it already does. You can say that stuff because you're fast. I'm not." I didn't realize at the time that the amount of time I spent thinking and talking about running was an indication that it was becoming more than just something I forced myself to do to stay in shape. It was becoming a hobby, a passion, something I enjoyed. Graham's taunting, jokes and our disagreements about my abilities may have been annoying at the time, but looking back it was little things like this that pushed me to be better, to set goals for myself and push my mental toughness past its limits. Graham was the one who showed me that running is much more than a sport. College: Meeting My Running EqualDuring my first year of college, I worked out alone every single day. None of the friends I made were as into fitness as I am. I will be forever grateful to running for being the reason I knew the streets of Oneonta like the back of my hand before anyone else did. Each morning was a different journey during which I checked Google Maps every five minutes to get my bearings and make sure I wasn't so lost that I wouldn't be able to get back to campus in time for class. At this point, running had become an addiction. If I went a day without it, I felt lost. This was both a blessing and a curse. I loved the way running made me feel, but this addiction contributed to my anxiety about eating and the ways in which I pushed myself too far physically. I started to pride myself on my commitment to running. It was part of my identity. It wasn't long before people came to know me as "the healthy one". My brother and his girlfriend thought I was crazy for getting up at 7 am every day of our family vacation in Port Angeles and Seattle, WA to run. But it made me feel unique. It was my thing. Standing on a lookout, watching the sunrise, and the freight ships pass by on the shimmering water between Port Angeles and Vancouver was my moment. No one could tarnish it or take it away from me. I've experienced countless moments like this while running over the years. The time I ran to Alamo Park during my first week in San Francisco and stood at the top, looking out over the city skyline thinking about how grateful I was to be there. The time I ran through Neahwa Park in Oneonta and stopped to take a photo of the pond because it looked so beautiful and peaceful. One thing that running teaches you is to take time to reflect. When you are running, it's just your body and your mind out there. You do a lot of thinking and you start to notice the little things more. The way the snow falls and settles on the trees, the way the birds sing, the way the ground under your feet sounds different depending on the season. You become more aware of your breathing and the rhythms of your body. You are grateful to be alive. I started my RA job sophomore year and was placed on a staff with several fitness oriented people. One of those people was Megan, my running buddy. Having someone to run with every day increased my motivation tenfold. We ran together (and still do) every week day morning around 7:15/7:30. I can't tell you how often we hear things like, "How do you do that?", "You're crazy.", "How do you run in the cold?" Let me answer all of these questions real quick. First question: once you get into a routine it's really not that difficult. There are days when it is more difficult to get out of bed than others, but when you know someone is waiting for you/depending on you, you just do it. Once you stand up, you're awake. Running with Megan early in the morning will always be better than putting it off and rushing through a solo run. It also helps that we are both very busy and usually have somewhere to be by 9 or 10 am. Second question: every run leaves us feeling accomplished, refreshed, and ready to take on the day. When you can see real benefits from something, doing it doesn't feel crazy. Third question: Megan and I have been comfortably warm running in single digit temperatures. We check the weather every morning, make sure that we have the proper clothing and get moving as soon as we get outside. Not only do we love the feeling we get from running, it strengthens our friendship. On a forty minute run we may touch on twenty different topics. Sometimes I try to remember each thing we talked about and I can't figure out how we got from our first topic to our last. Our morning run is our bonding time. We talk about our jobs, our relationships, politics, food (a passion for both of us), our families, our highs, and our lows. Oh, and we laugh when the other person slips and falls. One of the most beautiful moments I've had while running happened at about 7:15 am on a chilly day near the end of winter. Megan and I were running one of our favorite routes that goes through a more rural area of Oneonta. The sun was rising and shining beautifully on the field of high grasses. The air was the perfect temperature and felt clean on our faces. As we silently pushed through the pain and up one of our least favorite hills, we heard a loud, clear cock-a-doodle-doo (I had to look up how to spell that) come from a chicken coop about twenty feet off the road. I remember that we both stopped running, looked at each other, mouths wide open, and laughed. We agreed that that was one of the most amazingly perfect moments we'd ever experienced. It is times like this that make you really appreciate the world we live in and the people who are there to appreciate it with you. My friendship with Megan is a perfect example of the ability running has to bring people together. 13.1 Miles of FightingI spent January-May of sophomore year training for my first half-marathon and had many more beautiful moments on my numerous 7+ mile runs. During these training runs music played an integral role in me finishing each run without stopping. Some runners don't need music when they run. For some runners, music doesn't have an effect on how successful their run is. This is of course totally understandable, but most definitely not the case for me. I remember being at mile five of my run (one of the most difficult points for me to push past), in the middle of nowhere, and losing my phone signal. My music would drop out. There were times when this was so mentally taxing that I would yell...at nothing and at no one in particular. I was completely alone. My body hurt. I wanted to stop. And the one thing keeping me going was gone. It made me irrationally angry. I knew my signal would eventually come back, but now I was alone with my breathing, which indicated my struggling. Music and running go hand in hand for me. I could be physically drained and feel like I can't take one more step, but when a song comes on, I feel inspired again and it is sometimes the only reason I keep going. One of the biggest misconceptions about running is that it is a mostly physical act. The truth is, you can be at the peak of your physical fitness and not be a successful runner. In order to be successful, you must train your brain. Running is mostly mental. That is why it is so hard for people to start running and stay committed to it. You have to know going into each run that it has the potential to absolutely suck and then start running anyway. You can't expect every run to feel great and go smoothly. One of the greatest lessons running has taught me is to persevere and push through failure. Some runs are so bad that they make you question if you'll ever have a good run again. The amazing thing is that you most certainly will. And when you do, it will feel so amazing that you'll wonder why you ever doubted running in the first place. More importantly, you'll wonder why you ever doubted yourself. In May of 2014, I ran my first half-marathon. The quote that guided me through it was, "It does not matter how slowly you go, so long as you do not stop." I didn't stop once during that race. The half-marathon was the culmination of all my hard work during the months prior. All the early morning runs and all the solo 9 mile runs that I thought would never end. All the sore muscles and minor injuries. It was all for this day. During the race I would look around and realize that I was running the same pace as someone at least forty years older than me. That someone probably 30 pounds heavier than me was passing me. And that I was passing people who looked like they were in better shape than I was. The list of comparisons goes on, but my epiphany (if I can use such a dramatic word) was that running is a great equalizer. It does not matter if you are stocky or thin, old or young, elite or amateur, if this is your first race or your fiftieth; running is for everyone. I have seen Boston Marathon survivors who lost limbs and are already running races again. Wheelchair racing is a recognized Paralympic sport. Running is so incredibly inclusive, which is part of the reason there is such a strong, accepting community within the sport. Looking around during the half-marathon and seeing such diversity reminded me that signing up and showing up to this race was an accomplishment in itself. It takes a certain level of commitment and dedication to run a road race. Everyone's journey and experience may be different, but we can all bond (sometimes subconsciously) over the fact that running has had an impact on our lives. There were of course mental and physical ups and downs throughout the entire race - most memorably at mile 12.5 when it felt like I was having a heart attack and my lower back muscles were turning to stone at the same time - but nothing, I mean nothing, has ever felt so rewarding as crossing that finish line did. When I saw the banner that says "FINISH", heard the announcer say my name as I approached, and felt the support of the hundreds of people cheering me on, I was overcome with emotion. I'm overcome with emotion now, writing this. People question you. They wonder how or why you would want to run for two hours straight. Why you would voluntarily put your body through pain. This is why. And when you experience a moment like this, you just get it. It all makes sense. So What Does This All Mean?If you've gotten this far into this blog post, I commend you. This might sound crazy, but I still don't feel like I fully explained why running is so amazing. Some of my feelings are just too difficult to put into words. The bottom line is, I owe running a thousand thanks. It has been my hobby, passion, greatest confidant, and best friend for the past six years. People come and go and places change, but running is always there for me. It has been there for me through anger, through stress, through happiness, through change, through confusion, through breakups, through hurt, through times of certainty, and through times of doubt. I'm going to conclude with a list of the most important lessons running has taught me.
1. The Best Things In Life Take Time It took years for me to go from running one mile at a time to running a half-marathon. Anything worth having (friendships, relationships, your dream job, etc.) takes time to develop and grow. Just because you aren't where you want to be doesn't mean you won't ever get there. 2. Hard Work, Dedication & Perseverance Pay Off Running has taught me that when you stick with something for long enough, the payoffs are tangible and make all of your hard work worth it. A bad run is symbolic of a bad day, of making a mistake, of not getting something that you wanted, of falling down on the job. Getting up and running the next day despite yesterday's experience is symbolic of not letting your failures define you and taking on each new challenge with an open and positive mind. 3. You Are Capable Of So Much More Than You Think Your mind is constantly telling you "no". That you can't do the task ahead of you, that there's no way you can accomplish all the things you would like to. In running terms, your mind is always telling you that you can't run that far without stopping, that you can't run that race in the time you want, that you can't get better. You have to fight this voice. When you replace this negative self-talk with "I can" thoughts, you will be amazed by the things you are able to accomplish. 4. Do Not Internalize Stereotypes About Yourself It is very easy to allow stereotypes to shape how you view yourself and your abilities. Do not allow yourself to think, 'I can't run a road race because I am old' or 'I could never do that, I'm too out of shape'. It is never too late to set goals and accomplish amazing things that were once out of reach. Go watch a half or full marathon and see how many people are breaking down stereotypes and erasing the concept of "can't" from their lives. 5. Never Stop Exploring Running has led to so many great things for me. It has taught me more about myself than any textbook or personality test ever could. It has brought people into my life and strengthened my relationships. It has brought me to so many beautiful places (both literally and figuratively) that I might have never seen otherwise. It has taught me how to believe in myself, how to push myself, and how to focus and commit to my goals. Simply put, running has changed my life. Never stop looking for new experiences and new places to see. Never close yourself to other perspectives and points of view. Always be open to new people, things, and adventures.
0 Comments
|