I get asked a lot about my running. Mostly this is because I talk about running A LOT right now. About six months ago I was talking incessantly about curbside recycling, so we should all be glad this post didn’t take place back then.
I often get asked how I got started running. This is really a longer story about being angry and helpless on bed rest, and needing to find my strength. But in the end, it came down to two key events. First, I read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall and I loved it. I wasn’t a runner (yet), but I really loved it. It blended just enough of the geeky scientific with the sports inspiration, and I was hooked. I raved about this book more than any other book I’ve read to date according to my husband, which is saying a lot since he is routinely subjected to my amateur book critiques. The second event was a conversation with my friend Heather. She had been running, and I was lamenting that I wanted to, needed to, blah blah blah. She said something like, “Well, when I started I ran until I needed to walk, and then I walked until I could run some more, and so on.” This really clicked for me. It was simple and didn’t require me to know how far I was running or even measure the time – I just had to listen to my body and go.
Later I learned about the joys of being able to measure my distance and time (I do love numbers), but that is for another post on another day. As for “why” I run? The answer to that question is always changing, from day-to-day, from run-to-run, and sometimes from mile-to-mile.