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.
See Mary Run.
There is a sorority sister of mine who I deem my very own mini me, JJ. Although not linked by DNA, we couldn’t be more alike. From our fashion sense to friendship devotion to stellar shopping skills. One particular thread that inevitably weaves in and out of our lives every single season is the topic of health: weight loss, weight gain, nutrition, diet, exercise. And, it never, ever gets old. We could yap about sweating and eating until our voice boxes are permanently damaged. Luckily vino or lattes are usually involved…keeping the larynx lubricated.
One thing that does differ inside our mutual blubber bubble though is running. She does, I do not. Well, technically I gallop on a treadmill for one mile, tops. But as soon as that marker hits on the digital screen, dunzo. Then I crank up the incline significantly, well beyond stilleto heights, and walk til the cows come home. Wait, that was probably a bad idiom to use. But the point is a slow stride suits me better.
I have always admired the running species. When I see them huffing and puffing along cobblestone sidewalks, particularly in frigid winter or horrid heat conditions, I stare in awe. It is no secret that my body, internal organs and mental strength are not my allies when it comes to rapid movement on foot. Despite my own willpower and internal coaching efforts, still I have been unsuccessful in willing my legs to go the distance. Nike needs to come out with a “Big Booty Edition” with a state-of-the-art technologically advanced design that enables large asses to withstand pounding against pavement.
During a lovely coffee chat with JJ this morning, just after mulling over our uncomfortable waist cinching clothes and horrific holiday sugar binging, we discussed registering for an upcoming marathon in March. Ok fine, a 10K, but to me that might as well be 26.2. As diligent students of sweat, we drafted a training schedule for the next 11 weeks including MPH pacing ranges, intervals of minutes added each week leading up to D-Day, and which bracket [slow poke] we’ll place ourselves in when signing up. I could care less about “my time” as a personal mission is to just cross the damn finish line, but we decided on a 75 minute completion goal, or a 14ish minute mile. I typically run faster than that during my oh so killer 1 mile stints but for the sake of making it through the whole course, have to slow it down a bit.
The good news is USA Today has named this one of the “best running races in the country.” So, if I’m gonna put myself through this, might as well do it with 35,000 other masochists in the backyard of my beloved best city.
Although it feels like I just saved myself a VIP seat inside of Pandora’s Box, setting what previously has felt like an unachievable accomplishment is definitely motivating. Not to mention I virtually had the exact same discussion with another friend last year at the exact same time of year to sign up for the exact same 10K, but when push came to shove, it didn’t come to fruition…thanks to endless excuses. So instead, I’m putting my money where my mouth is and signing the online contract today. Not only will this journey inevitably help shave off the extra jean size I recently inherited, but pushing myself beyond confining, self-deprecating mental limits will be a medal in and of itself.
At the end, I surely will not have morphed into a 2-legged mustang. But I will have finally introduced the rubber to the road, literally and metaphorically.
I am woman, see me run. Ok, jog.
