Recently on Facebook my friend Lisa asked for advice from runners. I don’t talk about the fact that I run on this blog, but so many thoughts come to me while I’m running that you, Dear Reader, miss out on. This simply must end.
I used to jog to podcasts or playlists, but then my friend Erin (mom to three) told me the only time she gets to enjoy silence is during her runs. Now I, too, prefer just the sound of my feet and alone-time with my fun-sized brain. Sometimes on weekends Erin and I run together with our friend Dana. We meet in the parking lot with furrowed brows and grimaces, 55 minutes later we find ourselves fantasizing about grapefruit and other thirst-quenching sugars, and by the time we return to the parking lot we can’t stop smiling. In fact, the other day I took a celebratory leap and exclaimed “YEAY, SPRING!” to some young men runners. They paid me no mind. Regardless, that’s why people run. The endorphin high exists, and you can choose to share yours to the delight, amazement, or indifference of passersby.
Here are some thoughts from my runs:
Hills are good for you because the obstacle is outside of you, for once.
Wisconsin birds must suffer from seasonal-affective disorder, because if the sun is out they’re singing. Even if it’s 19 degrees.
Last week I passed another runner, which gave me the wide open view I prefer instead of a view of runner butts. I like the feeling of no obstacles in front of me. Then I realized my path is my path regardless of the presence or absence of runner butts, and really no obstacles exist anyway.
Running is gratitude practice. Every time I run I feel so lucky my body can run. And every single time I finish a run I feel so grateful to no longer be running. Running is yin-yangy that way.
Running is sticking with discomfort. Often you’re too hot or thirsty or tired or something hurts a little, and you just keep going. Some of the time my runs fly by, but usually not. Usually it’s .5 miles annoying and the next 1.5 pretty okay, and the next 1.1 perhaps delightful and the last .5 sucky but who cares you’re almost done.
If you hate running, you might just need to slow down. I used to run too fast and could only run for 30 minutes. I slowed down and could run for an hour, and instead of feeling hellish it began to feel mostly pleasant.
You can bring your running shoes anywhere. I always pack them on trips, and I almost always use them. Running recalibrates me, which can prove especially useful when you’re away from your regular routine.
Running keeps you in overall good shape. I don’t mean you can eat whatever you want and it won’t show, I mean you can climb stairs and keep up with your kids and bike up a really long hard hill even if you don’t usually bike at all.
I run without sunglasses because sometimes sunlight makes your eyelashes look like dandelion fluff.
There’s value in doing something without even trying to be good at it. I’m competitive about so many things, but not with running. I will always run slowly and I will never run competitively.
We all think everyone else runs wonky. We run by them and wonder if they realize their right leg boinks out crazy-like. At the same time they run by us wondering if we know our left arm whacks out like a mofo. None of us know because none of us see ourselves, because hopefully for these few minutes of our lives we just move our bodies and think our thoughts.
You can’t outrun veiny legs. That’s hereditary. But you can outrun a bad mood—every single time.
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