Running "Happy?"

     

     
        I wonder often what other people think about when they run. Running is a battle and everyone fights that battle differently. They either choose not to run at all or they find a way to cope with the pain, lack of oxygen, and exhaustion. Running really is hard.

       I go to sad places. I've found that to take my mind off of every pain I feel when each foot hits the ground, I need to go to a place that hurts even more. I get lost there in that place that makes a person want to cry during their "healthy" activity. "Brooks" has this motto that says "Run Happy." I really don't get the motto because I don't understand how anyone is happy when doing something so stupid looking and miserable.

       During the summer months, I get up early to run in the cooler air or run after the sun goes down, because I cannot tolerate the heat. During the winter months, I wrap every inch of my body up in layers of fabric to keep myself from freezing to death as my eye lashes freeze and snow builds onto my beard that I keep for this reason. No one likes this. They like how it makes them feel after. I'm in that boat.

        I like being done running. I feel accomplished; especially if I had run in terrible conditions. But during the run, I need to go to a different place.

       I make myself miserable to learn to tolerate something a little less miserable.



Sing.
Migrate.

Still on my Feet

       

       
        I haven't posted a blog in a while. Three years really. I haven't stopped running. I've been plagued with various injuries, starting with the ones I made worse during my marathon. I had finished the marathon broken. I crossed the line because I couldn't not cross it. I will give myself credit for perseverance if not stupidity. I tried to run for weeks because running had become a part of who I was. My knee betrayed me every time. My metabolism from training was so high and I was hungry all of the time and couldn't run. I put on a bunch of weight and struggled to find motivation look at the endless pavement again. Somehow, I had forgotten how great it made me feel and only remembered the work.

        I ran a couple of times week for the next year or so. I had a friend at work challenge me to a mileage competition. I needed this because I needed a reason to compete. I took him up. We both ran. For 31 days, we ran everyday. I left it all on the road. This was a challenge of wills. In the end; he won. But no one lost. I put my best month of running in the books. I ran 200 miles for the month. I had more in me, but at the very start, that was my max. I didn't think I could do it, but I did. This, to me maybe, meant more than the marathon.

        After the competition, I got the bad idea of reducing my mileage to allow lifting time. This led to me reducing my mileage to 10 miles a week and barely lifted my head from the pillow. I had list a lot of weight and now I was gaining it back rapidly, and ended up gaining more than ever.

       Again, a competition with a friend for weight loss put my feet back on the pavement. I won this one. I didn't eat and ran everyday. I lost 29 lbs. He lost 27. We both won.

        So now I am obsessed again; putting cement behind me everyday. I'm doing the work and starting to remember the benefits. It's crazy because I have spent the winter months putting in 9:45 min/mi to now returning to sub 8 min miles. I'd like to PR my 5k this year. That's my goal.

       







Sing.
Migrate.