So Not A Runner...

Sunday, Jan. 1, 2012

I run all the time… but I don’t consider myself a “runner.” 

Lately, this seems to have become my line when talking to anyone about this half marathon coming up in March.  In fact, if you had told me even a month ago that I would be halfway considering a half marathon, I’m sure I would have started laughing before you ever finished.

And yet, just yesterday, on New Year’s Eve, I registered.  For the half marathon.  Meaning: I put down $68 and have my name in the list of “runners.”  Now it’s official.  In fact, it’s an investment.  It’s crazy talk.

Ironically, it all started at a cookie exchange party a couple weekends before Christmas.  I was standing there chatting amongst the peanut-butter blossoms, oreo truffles and red-velvet brownies, when the talk turned to running (of all things).  Several girls I know, many of whom I work with, are all planning to run the Quintiles Wrightsville Beach Marathon in March, and one of them suggested I join them.  I have to admit: at first, I was attracted to the challenge.  This is purely the private-school mentality in me coming out (you know, when you’re the captain and MVP of everything, but, turns out, that’s just because there weren’t that many people, and no one was really a rockstar athlete in the big picture.  I say that with the greatest respect).  I seem to think if you put me in a group of women for any kind of physical activity, I should be able to do at LEAST as well if not better than at least half of them.  Right?  It’s not arrogance, it’s a totally misconceived notion driven by six years of playing sports in my budding-athlete years at a very small, rural-NC school.  (Believe me, this has humbled me several times before and still seems to stick.)

But back to the question at hand. 

I also had several immediate hesitations.  One being the fact that I may have only reached about five or six months of straight running EVER before being completely worn out, and that was pushing myself to the limit.  13.1?  It just sounds completely unattainable.  I have nearly convinced myself, quite convincingly actually, that some people’s bodies are just better designed for running.  Their bodies fit what is needed to do it, and some people, like me, just don’t have those particular complementary parts.  I have good balance, am fairly strong, generally athletic and love to compete… but endurance I have not. 

My second hesitation was just how hard it is on your body.  I’ll admit to having thought before—quite smugly, I might add—that if all these people who run half and full marathons are so fit and health-conscious, then why don’t they know how bad it really is for you?  It seemed totally oxymoronic.  Running, especially on hard surfaces, is just plain bad news in all kinds of ways for your joints, bones, muscles, etc.  Aren’t we defeating the purpose here?  And thirdly, I was worried about the time it takes to train.  How in the world do people find the time to be out there for HOURS at a time?  When would I? 

Besides… I am so not a runner. 

Have you ever heard someone say that, particularly someone who now has at LEAST one race under his or her belt?  It’s usually followed by “before I did my marathon.”  I’ve heard it plenty of times, and it was always super annoying.  No, you just didn’t realize you have the runner body that I don’t have, I would think.  It’s not the same for everyone.  You can’t expect just anyone to get out there and be able to do that like you.

I guess you have to understand my ongoing, dysfunctional relationship with this thing called running.  As I said, I run all the time (it seems like) for exercise.  I’ll get on the treadmill at LEAST twice a week, definitely once on the weekends if I’m in town, maybe get outside once in a while if it’s nice, and it’s usually on days when I’m not taking a class at the gym or doing free weights on my own.  That’s about the continual extent of it.  That has pretty much been a routine for me since I quit playing three sports per year in high school and went off to college.  I run to manage my weight (although it seems like exercise, for me, forever simply maintains it).  And it’s never “fun,” really.  It’s just what I do.  I get to about three miles or so, on a good day, and call it quits.  I run hard, no pace whatsoever, and so, fortunately, these purely cardio workout days are relatively quick ones.  It’s kind of like eating vegetables.  I don’t always have them with every single meal every day, and they might not always be my most favorite item on the plate, but they are a consistent, healthful, ordinary part of life.

I guess, that is, until now.

I mulled the question over in my mind for a good little while.  Would I join them?  At one point, I had actually made up my mind as a definite “no.”  But, just out of curiosity, I decided to see what I could do if I got on the treadmill, paced myself a little better, and told myself I would do more than usual.  The first time I did this, I ran four miles.  The next Thursday, I went out to the “Loop” at Wrightsville Beach and ran it… twice. 

This was huge for me.  I was shocked.  I was absolutely astonished by the difference it makes when you actually slow your pace, have a goal in mind, and believe in yourself to do it.  (Oh, and worship music on your iPod—maybe a little Christian hip-hop as well—is a always huge contribution.)  For the very first time in my life, right in the middle of contemplating doing this, I truly felt like I might actually be able to run a half marathon.  For the first time ever, because of that one run, it honestly felt attainable. 

See, the “Loop” is a beast I have loved and loathed since college.  I remember struggling to run the entire thing at times as an 18-year-old college freshman.  Now, at 28 years old, I had just run it twice—and, endurance-wise, felt great.  I won’t kid myself, my knees and feet were starting to feel it, and it was time to EAT for goodness sakes, but I felt like, if not for that, I had more in me.  This was such a huge accomplishment to me, in what is probably just a small package to anyone else.  But the Loop somehow represents to me the constant battle I have I faced since what feels like forever.  That is, the inability to lose much weight, as I just simply maintain (somewhat like a continual, frustrating circle—or “loop”), as well as the barrier I could never seem to break through of running farther than 3 miles without stopping.  But getting out there and putting my mind to running those 2.5 miles twice—and then doing it—made this whole thing very personal.  This is a mental game we’re playing.  This thing can be conquered.

The next time I got on the treadmill, I did 4 miles again (in JUST over 39 minutes)… and two days later I did 5.5.  I could not believe what I was seeing in those bright red numbers.  I was beginning to feel that “high,” the addictive nature of running that actually feels good and makes you crave more.  (Who knew?)  I was starting to see, in a very small way, why people love it the way they do. 

A few days later I ran the Loop with a friend on the morning of Christmas Eve, which we turned into 3 miles by taking a little side track.  I actually didn't mind getting up early to run, especially with this view on the way and when I got there...

Airlie Road

Wrightsville Beach Park

And after being gone for Christmas, I came back and ran at Halyburton Park, a beautiful, woodsy trail near my house.  I ran 6.5 miles.  Without walking or stopping. 

Half of the half almost exactly…  

I came home that morning to tell my husband about my accomplishment, and for some reason I found myself almost getting emotional about it.  It was so much more than a run.  I could finally see that this could be attainable, and I was starting to build a confidence that I could do it.  It’s not something I was even remotely close to considering a few weeks ago, and yet I can’t tell you how many barriers this will break for me to run the half.  Mentally, emotionally and physically.  Yes, it’s just running—but years of lies are coming undone.  Lies like I just can’t; it’s not possible for me personally; I’ll never be one of those people; I can’t because of my diabetes… But, yes, actually, I can.  The only person telling me I couldn’t was me.  All of it represents so much more for me.  And somehow along the short way so far, I am loving it.

Now, don’t get me wrong: Not every day is a great day…

Just yesterday morning, New Year’s Eve, we started “officially” training.  There were 14 of us from our group that started at Lumina Station, ran down around the Loop and back to make not quite 4 and a half miles.  

To me, I felt like I did not do well.  Just two days before I’d had the best run of my life, those 6.5 miles all running, and there I was really struggling before reaching 4.  It was not exactly the “kick-off” to training that I hoped for.  I stopped to walk several times at the end, and despite doing everything the same that morning, for some reason I felt more full from breakfast and more cramped up than usual (which made that last little stretch no fun at ALL).  I absolutely love being a part of this group and can’t WAIT to continue training with them.  But here is where I’m going to get very transparent because I think that’s important…

I also do so much better by myself. 

I know, it’s very weird.  Most people do better with others around them, but for some reason, I am a much better runner alone.  I am talking purely performance here.  As far as the encouragement, accountability, company, friendship and support of running with others, you can’t beat it!  Not only do I love it, I also NEED it.  In fact, I need to do it more, especially to get ready for race day.  I have just found that when I pace myself at my own personal rate, listen to music, don’t try to talk, and don’t try to keep up with others, it’s going to be a better day for me.  I'm not sure where to take that observation except that I need to get better at running with others.  I don’t think I should take it to mean I need to only ever run by myself (because how else will I conquer it?).

But here is what I absolutely love about running (in general): Being outside in God’s creation for so much longer than I might be normally on any given day.  Clearing my mind and having no distractions for a good span of time.  Getting into a good groove and simply feeling healthy.  Hearing a particular song or two that takes me to a completely different place.  (Like this dream I have of being with the youth in Kenya and starting a Girls on the Run program for the girls there.  You may think that sounds really cheesy, but I think about that sometimes while running, not being too serious, and it pumps me up!!)  I love the challenge of it all.  The feeling of pushing yourself toward a goal and reaching it.  The confidence and gratification it brings when you finish a run and are just plain proud of yourself.  Oh, and we can’t forget the gear.  I am loving the gear.  A good outfit is going to make any run better.  (I said I was being transparent, right?)  Let me not get side-tracked, but I got a pair of Lululemon running tights for Christmas (wa-hoo!), and a few short- and long-sleeve dry-fit shirts, and I’m becoming obsessed with how good they feel…

Anyway, so here I am at this point, all registered and ready to go, and very thankful for another three months to train.  I have no idea what race day will hold for me, but here is what I’ve learned so far:

Pace yourself.  Pace is so important.  I start out much, much slower than I would like to, eager to go faster like usual and “get it over with it.”  But distance running is teaching me to be more patient.  I have all the patience in the world with people, but when it comes to doing things, making decisions, etc… I am NOT the most patient person.  It’s all about changing your expectations.  I have had to nearly force myself to simply get comfortable and accept the fact that I’m just going to be out there for a while.  I don’t let myself hurry.

Have a goal in mind.  I used to just run until I felt like I couldn’t go anymore.  There was no real goal.  So my distance would, of course, vary, and I was never able to really push myself past a certain point without having that higher number in mind.  When you’re running toward a goal, it changes everything.

Believe in yourself to do it.  I used to have very little confidence with running.  Like I keep saying, “I run ALL THE TIME… but, no, I definitely don’t consider myself a ‘runner.’”  The good news is, we can actually choose to think our thoughts.  So choose to tell yourself that you can.

Something the pastor of my church has said is “How is third.”  That phrase is one that has stuck in my mind throughout this whole process (just a few short weeks, which have seemed like so much longer!)  When you cast vision for something and set a goal, “how” is not the first question you ask.  It is actually the third.  I am going to run a half marathon, and I have to put the question “how?” at the bottom of my list of questions that come with that goal.

I have heard many people say that their goal with the half is simply to finish.  I am not so much worried about finishing if I’m doing the run/walk method.  A personal goal for myself is to do the entire 13.1 miles all running.  I know you can actually improve your time by walking some, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of at ALL to walk at times.  It’s just something personal I want to do and to prove to myself. 

Actually, that word “finish” is one I’m really mulling over right now.  I’m considering it for something my church does this time of year, every year, called My One Word.  Of course I want to apply it to finishing this marathon… but I would also like to improve my “finishing” in many aspects of life.  I have an innate personality trait that causes me to be completely unmotivated by to-do lists.  (Like how I justify that?  Haha.)  Seriously though, to me, it’s not about checking things off; it’s about the process.  To leave things open and unfinished always gives you the opportunity to make them better.  Maybe it’s the writer/editor in me, but it seems like no piece of work is ever perfect; there will always be areas to improve and make the most out of their potential.  It’s creatively fantastic and absolutely maddening. 

But this is not always the best philosophy for all things in life.  Tasks need finishing.  And one day, our life on this earth will be finished and closed off.  There will not be the opportunity to go back and make anything better or do anything we didn’t do.  So this New Year’s Day, no matter what your resolutions are, I would challenge you to put “how” third and to commit.  I still don’t know how I’m going to run this half marathon (especially with managing my blood sugars, which is something I’m currently trying to figure out with these longer runs).  But I don’t want to look back on this year with regrets, I don’t want to make excuses, and I don’t want to be my own worst limitation.  I could be the only thing getting in my way.  Or I can choose to just do it—and find a new love in the process.

Now if I can run for as long as I write… I think I’ll be OK. ;)