Running is hard.
Admittedly, it's a matter of priorities and, perhaps, maturity. At 21, with no real responsibilities, not to mention bills, it was easy to crank out a few miles after a long day at work while mom and dad made dinner. A decade later, I'm lucky to run three times a week. Working two jobs, getting married and ripping and replacing your entire backyard will do that. Rain certainly doesn't help either.
Motivation -- specifically, a lack thereof -- has played a role in my recent doldrums. With no race on the horizon, it's easy to pick up the shovel and spread some mulch instead of pounding the pavement. I did make it to the James Joyce Ramble earlier this spring, but, at the risk of sounding like a running snob, a 10K isn't enough to push me all that hard.
More than once, though, I have tried to commit to a marathon, only to back out after a few weeks of training. (That's why I don't register too soon.) It's usually a combination of life intervening -- why I thought I could conceivably run 26.2 miles two weeks before my wedding I'll never know -- and my brain somehow convincing my body that it's better to quit while I'm ahead than go through months of training only to run what most everyone else in the free world would consider a kickass time (say, 3:30) but what, when I cross the finish line, is only bound to disappoint me
A couple weeks ago, though, my wife told me something in passing. "You should run more," she said. "It makes you happy." It got me thinking. (Hence the first blog post in almost a year.)
Running does make me happy, in part because it is hard. Running is supposed to be hard. Squeezing in three-and-a-half miles on your lunch break, as I did today, is hard. Waking up at the asscrack of dawn for a weekend long run so you don't miss work, a family event or an afternoon of pulling weeds is hard. Driving halfway across the state by yourself for a road race that serves as a marathon tune-up is hard (or an indication that you need more friends).
It's time, then, to kick myself in the pants. This fall, I am going to run the Manchester City Marathon, come hell, high water or a couple dozen raspberry bushes that need to be trimmed. This time around, I'm setting aside the notion that I can qualify for Boston -- after all, at this point I am 0-for-7 -- and simply giving myself a reason to run. That, it turns out, is pretty easy.
Great post, Beastwood! I am definitely guilty of doing anything to make running easier--run/walk combo, only once per week, etc... But accepting that it's hard and liking it for that fact is something that will only help.
ReplyDeleteOne great way to do this is to run at evening rush hour, when, especially in your neighborhood, odds are pretty good you will be running faster than people in their cars are driving. That'll make you feel fantastic.
ReplyDelete