It was 39 degrees outside today and I went for a run. I layered up my shirts, strapped my cell phone pouch around my waist and yanked on my knee braces.
I must be crazy.
I am not a runner. In fact, I recently started swimming again and remembered how much I love it, how comfortable and free I feel in the water. The exact opposite of how I feel when I run. I started swimming again because I couldn’t run.
I have knee pain. Hopefully obvious by the fact that I have to wear knee braces. I have a sensitive, irritable stomach, often made worse by the jostling of a long run. I have flat feet, causing my ankles to appear to be rolling inward, and while I have yet to feel (much) ankle pain from this, I’ve been told it’s coming. My knee pain is probably related. I recently found out that I have metatarsal bones that are angled upwards, in the wrong direction, causing limited mobility to my big toe joints, particularly painful in pushup-position. My podiatrist told me to get some ultra-cushioned Brooks running shoes, and while I love them, they are the most expensive pair of shoes I’ve actually ever bought. I hate being cold, I hate being sweaty, and I hate being dirty – all three are things runners must deal with from time to time. And to top it off, despite my strong, muscular swimming physique, I am painfully slow when running. Freestyle kick doesn’t translate well into – well, pretty much anything.
I don’t actually like the physical act of running. It’s jarring to my knees. My stomach has to have only eaten the perfect things that day. It’s just freaking hard.
But for some, crazy reason, I want so badly to be a runner. I’m still trying to figure out why, which is why I think I must be crazy.
A few years ago, I ran a 10-miler road race for the first time. I trained and ran and walked and ran. And I finished all 10 miles. You’d think that if I want to run so badly that race should have solidified something in me. It should have given me motivation and the proof that yes, I can actually run. But I found out later that I was actually in the middle of a mild colitis flare up and my stomach was not cooperating with long runs. Thus, I stopped running for about a year.
In case you didn’t know, if you stop running, you lose whatever endurance and stamina and strength you may have had. I lost it all, and I lost it quickly. No amount of time on an elliptical can replace the actual act of running outside.
After I fixed my stomach thing, then I was in the midst of my whole toe thing. I had aggravated my metatarsal pretty badly before I knew what the issue was, and then I was being told the solution was to stop doing whatever I was doing to mess it up or surgery. I did not choose surgery.
Fast forward another year, and here we are. My toe pain has gone away. My knee pain has receded and is kept at bay with braces. My stomach stays mostly quiet.
I always get inspired by people training for marathons. I love to hear about how marathoners push themselves to the limit, they find out what they’re made of, they set their goals and fly past them. I love seeing the look of pure triumph on their faces as they cross the finish line. I love their struggle and their achievement.
I have had “run a half marathon” on my bucket list for a while now. I actually might have scribbled it out in the midst of my physical ailments, but I know the ink is still there. I tell myself I’ve given up on that dream, but have I really?
I also love how easy it is to actually be a runner. You don’t need a gym or a pool or a field. You don’t need a team or a partner. You don’t need expensive equipment, other than these dang shoes. You don’t actually need much talent or skill, at least to start. You just tie your laces, dress for the weather, and head out the door. You just put one foot in front of the other. If you’re tired, you slow down. If you feel amazing, you keep going. You make it as hard or as easy as you want. You decide to quit or keep moving. You decide if you win or lose. It’s simple.
I love the runner’s high. It feels like a swimmer’s high, though no one will recognize that term because I made it up. Runner’s high is a thing, but if swimmers had a high, then I believe those two are the same. It’s the feeling when you’ve given all you have, you’ve pushed your body to the limit, and you’re bone tired. But when you’re done, the adrenaline coursing through your muscles is pure ecstasy. This high is what tells you that as painful as that run was, you just have to do it again. It was totally worth it.
So this is where I’m at – super inspired, feeling physically better than I have in years, and high on my 2.6-mile run. (That’s 2 point 6. Not 26. Sorry, folks.)
I’m also planning to run a leg of the Pittsburgh Marathon Relay on May 5, so I have a goal! Let’s crush this!