Phase the First
I wasn't one of those children who ran a lot. I preferred to read about running, and the cliche "nose in a book" described me perfectly. One time my very athletically accomplished best friend, Johnna, persuaded me to join the cross country team with her in junior high. She made it sound so fun and glamorous! How could I resist? On the very first day of practice, we were supposed to do some road running down to some landmark, I think it was that Mexican restaurant way out past town on Main Street. It was twenty miles or something, probably. Maybe forty. Or a hundred. MAYBE it was actually IN Mexico. I can't remember exactly. Anyway, I gave up. I told my friend I couldn't even breathe, which was true, because I was so out of shape that m' poor little ol' heart and lungs just couldn't handle it. My first and last day of cross country team.
I ran a few miles in college. I thought about running a 5k.
I believe that in between giving birth to four children, I tried to run a bit. It seemed like something I should do.
Hold on just a second--a thirteen year-old who is out of shape? That is just so sad.
Phase the Second
Then, just after my youngest was born, I noticed that my beautiful body didn't look much in real life like it did in my imagination and memory, and I deemed this an emergency situation. I bought a treadmill, set it up in the living room, and began walking. Then I walked fast. Then I started running a bit. Running on a treadmill turned out to not be my favorite thing, so I moved on over to the high school track, a half block from my house. I ran a mile! I ran a mile and a half! I ran two freakin' miles! And then, one of the very best memories of my entire life, and I'm not sure I can even articulate the feeling of personal power and accomplishment, but I ran all the way to Ponds Park and back home, which was three miles. I was overjoyed! I couldn't believe I had just run three miles, and dang, did it ever feel good. I was hooked!
Phase the Third
For the next five years, I ran quite regularly, and my running had become a social outlet. The friends I ran with became my closest friends. We poured our hearts out to each other as we ran. We traveled out of town together to participate in half marathons, mountain races, and even a marathon. Running was a great get-away for me, and still helped me nurture that personal power that had come as such a lovely surprise a few years earlier.
Phase the Fourth
After almost seventeen years, my marriage fell apart. It was hard. In retrospect, I was probably depressed. Who wouldn't be? I grieved the loss of my hope for what my family would be. I had sole responsibility--physical, fiscal, emotional, spiritual, academic, and everything inbetween--of four children from the ages of 6 to 13. The three or four years following the divorce, I was in great emotional pain for most of the time. This was when I learned the true beauty of running. Running was the great escape I needed. I worried about raising my kids by myself, so I ran. I worried about how I would pay my bills, so I ran. I agonized about my boys especially, and how hard it was on them to not have their dad in their lives anymore, and I ran. I got better at it. I ran alone, and I felt comforted and close to God. Mostly, I didn't think about anything at all when I was running. I was a running brainstem: heart beating, lungs sucking in air and pushing it out again, feet pounding rhythmically. It was glorious. I ran another marathon and barely remembered getting from 0 to 26.2. I was very focused and I cut an hour and a half off my previous marathon time. I was immediately ready for another.
Phase the Fifth
I have gained a lot of weight since my marriage to my current husband/sweetheart. In desperation, I run fitfully to try to regain some of that old feeling of power, of physical fitness, and youth. I ran today, on the road, in the beautiful September evening sun. I reminded myself how fortunate I am to be able to put on pair of shoes and just take off -- my knees are healthy, my lungs work great, my heart is as solid as they come. I spent three difficult miles in appreciation for my life, the sun, my experiences as a runner, and for the future. Where will I run from here?
