On Running, Not Running, and Not Getting Greedy

I've never claimed to be an athlete. Not at all. I never passed the mile in gym class. Running was always hard and painful. Then I met Chris. It seemed to come easy to him--running, that is--and if you looked at him now, you'd think it was always that way. Chris loves to run. He truly, really loves it. But it hasn't always been easy. I watched him try to run through injuries, struggle with getting in shape, and pour himself in a run that did not feel good. I've seen him run races and really worry if he was going to pass out afterward.

Few people know the real work he puts in and struggles he has gone through to make it where he is today. Few people truly love running the way Chris does, I think. 

Throughout our relationship, I wanted to understand and share that love for running with him. He wanted a running partner and I wanted to be there for him. I can't tell you how many times I tried, and each time, I would fail again and again. A couple of times I made it up to running 30 minutes, but it always felt too hard.


Until this past fall. For some reason, I decided to try again. And I took it really slow. Having the Nike Plus app helped me to understand how far I had gone and my pace without guessing. I could see my improvement. And I was getting somewhere. Everything was going great. I had never ran more than three miles before, but I finished two 5k races, improved my speed, and even ran ten miles once. Ten miles. By myself! I enjoyed my runs as they added structure to my days that I had been missing since I worked from home.

Then our schedules grew more complicated in the spring. And it got cold in February--real cold. Record-breaking cold. I fell apart in February. I couldn't keep at it. I was so tired and could not drag myself out to run below 30 degrees. So I stopped. I went for a few runs in March, but I was disappointed by my pace. I'm the kind of person who has to run in the morning, and I hate taking two showers in a day. I decided to wait until summer to try again. I was disappointed with myself, but I knew I could get back at it when my schedule calmed down. And as of this week, I've gotten back into it.

Through this experience of taking off a couple of months of running, I have learned a few things about myself and about running in general.

Just because you take a break doesn't mean you have quit. That is up to you.
I felt like a failure for taking a break, but I realized that I decide whether it is a "break" or "quitting". A break is temporary. Quitting is an absolute end. You can decide if you want to get up and try again.


Sometimes a break is absolutely necessary to help you heal.
Before I took a break, my hip flexor would start hurting about 3/4 of a mile in. I just kept going. And going. And it would hurt my entire run. I should have stopped earlier. I needed a break to heal. Now it doesn't hurt at all. And when I ran those few times in March after my "break" in February, it didn't hurt either. So this time has given me a chance to heal up.


Don't get greedy with "too much too fast".
Along with the idea of taking a break to heal up, I need to remember to pace myself. I need to really ease into it. I'm not training for anything. I'm not trying to compete with anyone. I need to be patient with myself.


Less pressure can be a good thing.
Before, I used to post my time for each run. I worked hard to get better times. However, that pressure can sometimes not be a good thing. I think in general I might just post my distance and not worry about times so much unless I meet a big goal. Also, I used to plan to sign up for races to give myself a goal. However, as it turns out, I kind of have big freak outs at races, so I probably should just run for me. Maybe I'll try a race again, but I don't want races to be my main reason for running. When I race, I feel the crowd choking me and we're all running and I feel like I have to run faster than everyone or else I'm going to die. I'm not exaggerating--I feel like death is coming for me. Some zombie apocalypse phobia coming out or something.... Also, training for long races was also really putting a lot of unnecessary pressure on me. The longer the race, the more time you need to train. I would look at my plan and know I needed to go run for two hours, but I just didn't have time. So what did I do? Nothing. If I didn't have that pressure, maybe I could have gone for a four mile run. And that would have been a lot better than nothing at all.


This past week, I went for two runs. They felt good. I felt good. They weren't long. I didn't even check my watch for my pace the whole time. It's far from where I was, but I'm not pushing it. I don't have to. And I would rather keep my shins and ankles happy. There's time to add on more distance and speed. I'll get there again, and I'm actually probably incredibly lucky that I didn't hurt myself before by trying to run through an injury. It will be easier this time since I'm not starting from scratch--and this time I'm going to do it right by acknowledging from the beginning that it is a long journey. I should have recognized that earlier by watching Chris work so hard through all those runs. Running isn't necessarily a race.