Runner’s Medium.
Since I made a pact to complete a 10K with my mini me friend 15 days ago in t-minus 2 months, I rapidly made strides for periods of 30-40 minutes on 8 different occasions, ranging from 2-3 miles. Now I’m waiting for my trophy in the mail. Seriously.
This is an epic feat. For me, anyway.
I’ve always Hated, with a capital H, running. Even as a tween playing travel soccer and having to run laps at practice, hated it. Running 1 whole mile in gym class, hated it. Over the years, sporadically self-inflicting hazing to my body to ‘give it a shot’ on the treadmill at the gym because everyone else is doing it and not collapsing, hated it. The only thing even remotely close to the sport that I regularly do is running to stores who are having clearance sales.
A proud Walker who has reaped multiple benefits, I’ve never understood why people put their bodies through the high-impact brutality of running. Even Wikipedia eludes to the simple math equation — Running uses more energy than walking to travel the same distance. Therefore, running is less efficient than walking in terms of calories expended per unit distance, though it is faster. Well that is something I can’t argue — getting the madness over quicker is A-OK in my book. Have you ever watched someone run, in place? Sometimes it is hard not to stare, they look so silly. And now, I’m one of them.
My first mistake was running 3 miles on day 1, and then doing it again on day 2. I was fairly certain I would need a double knee replacement after that silly decision. My rationale was the fact I got through it once, why can’t I do it again…not realizing my body wasn’t used to the punishment and hated me for it. Then after speaking with my roommate who is of the long-distance species and has a half marathon under her belt, advised me to not run as far (at this point) and not run consecutively back-to-back. So I’ve cut back my distance a bit and chopped up the spurts throughout the week.
When a new colleague learned of my 10K participation, and somewhat regular exercise routine, he called me an Athlete. For some reason that label didn’t sit well with my mind. I don’t classify, identify or relate to what that means. Sure maybe through my puberty years I could kick around that term, but certainly not today. Another classification I cannot and probably will never accept is being a Runner. I’m forcing myself to try it out. And who knows…maybe, just maybe after Race Day, I will continue trotting along assuming my endurance increases over time.
Since decreasing my speed (and caring less about what my “time” is), the experience isn’t exactly excruciating anymore. Furthermore, yesterday after having a very long day mentally & emotionally and stopping short of scalping myself, I openly took to the treadmill. I zoned out, didn’t pay much attention to the running meter (which I typically watch like a hawk, counting down til “it’s over”), and when it was done, I literally felt better. Though not rocket science, exercising really does release anxiety and tension. But particuarly running — perhaps because it is so repetitive and methotical. You also seem to metaphorically go to another place. I was able to reset my priority meter, take (several) deep breaths, and remember what is important by temporarily disengaging from my noisy life.
I won’t go as far to say I experienced the infamous Runner’s High, maybe more of a Runner’s Medium. Nor do I ever plan on going a long enough distance that requires protecting my nipples from shafing…but I’m ever so slightly beginning to understand why humans partake in pavement pounding. I think physically running is very closely linked to emotionally running. If we can lace up our sneakers, and travel into a space within our minds where all of our troubles seem so far away, then it makes perfect sense why sporting a pair of New Balances literally brings on a greater sense of balance.
