On Running

Runnin' runnin', and runnin' runnin', and runnin' runnin...

This is what I did three days last week--Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.
I read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall a few weeks ago, and ever since then, I've wanted to try my hand at running. I've mentioned before, though, that I'm not meant to be a runner. I'm not built for it, and I certainly don't have correct running form or breathing techniques. (During those agonizing couple seconds while the mp3 player is changing songs, I hear my breathing and realize I sound like I'm dying.) Except for a brief track and field stint when I was in high school (which was a joke), I've never really run before. However, when Shawna suggested running as a way to whip ourselves into shape, I agreed and was determined to become a runner.
So on Wednesday afternoon at 4:45, Shawna and I set off, music blaring in our ears, setting the pace for our slow and steady jog. Since sixteen laps around the track is equivalent to one mile, we decided to ease ourselves into the torture of running by running four laps, walking four, running four more, and walking the last four.
Amazingly enough, the first four laps weren't as painful as I thought they'd be, but I was more than happy to stop when we finished. Shawna and I wordlessly removed our headphones from our ears and began our quarter-mile walk. Our wheezing eventually subsided, and we were able to talk a bit before beginning our second quarter-mile jog.
Altogether, our running/walking took about thirty minutes. Then we headed downstairs to the gym and biked ten miles, which took us forty-five minutes. When I climbed off the bike, clinging to the side for fear that my wobbly legs would give out on me, I was covered in sweat, exhausted, and couldn't wait to do it again on Friday.
Unfortunately, Shawna couldn't make it Friday, so I was runnin' solo. (Did that make anyone else think of Jason Derulo's "Ridin' Solo"?) Because I was by myself and really just wanted to get it over with, I decided to see if I could maybe, just maybe get in eight laps before taking a walk break. With J-Lo and Drake urging me on, I actually made it! I know running half a mile is no big accomplishment for some people, but this was a big deal for me because, I'll say it again, I'm not a runner. Except now I am.
After my half-mile victory, I walked four laps and then set out to run eight more. And I made it again. I finished up by walking four more laps to stretch then logged in another ten-mile bike ride. Again, when I walked on leaden legs back to my car, I realized I liked this feeling of pushing my body to its limits and then defying them. I decided I would be back at the gym Sunday after church.
I guess I was feeling crazy (or maybe it was the fact that there were lots of guys playing basketball on the court below and I just knew were judging how many times I could run around the track without stopping), but I told myself I was going to run the full mile. I cranked the music up as loud as it could go, mentally prepared myself for the pain I was sure would follow, and set off.
Up to lap eight was pretty easy by this time (I can't believe I can say that!), but then it got a bit more difficult. My calves were tired and sore, I had a stitch in my side, and I had been breathing quite heavily for several laps already. But I told myself to suck it up and focused on conquering one lap at a time.
I'd repeat the lap number in my head the whole lap, both to remind myself how far I had gone and as a form of motivation. By lap fifteen, I couldn't believe I had only one lap left. About a minute later, I had run a mile without stopping! I wanted to do a little dance and jump for joy. But I refrained, seeing as how the basketball court was still pretty full.
The feeling I felt ranked up there with walking across the stage and receiving my bachelor's degree, closing on my house, and getting a promotion at work. I felt so accomplished. Because I can now run a mile without passing out, I know I can do anything with hard work, determination, and the musical stylings of Usher to keep me focused.