I Love Running, I Hate Running

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21078541.post-88687728301166670042008-02-17T12:52:00.000-08:002008-02-17T21:31:30.794-08:00I Love Running, I Hate Running<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v23A0zY6oh4/R7h321panJI/AAAAAAAAAOc/6ZgAxWs42dU/s1600-h/chair.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_v23A0zY6oh4/R7h321panJI/AAAAAAAAAOc/6ZgAxWs42dU/s400/chair.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168012356405075090" /></a> Among my favorite things are hammocks and piers, daydreaming and reading, cozy velvet sofas and cupcakes, listening to rain and sipping soup, and being curled up in my quilt under my big wooden canopy bed or sitting in my favorite writing chair (see photo!). Notice that all of these things require very, very little movement or physical effort! So, no one was more surprised than me when I decided to try out running last June! I was inspired initially by my older brother who began a few years ago and is now training for the Boston Marathon after doing quite a few other marathons around the country. He does this even while also being an incredibly engaged father and husband as well as attorney working a lot of hours. I thought, "If my goofy brother can do it, I should really give it a try." Afterall, I've always been better at absolutely everything than him. And so I did try. And while I have had some stops and starts here and there, taking up running has been one of the best choices I've ever made. Too often I think we get in the pattern of assuming we are 'this' or 'that' kind of person, someone who is 'outdoorsy' or 'not outdoorsy,' someone who is an 'artist' or not, a shy person or not a shy person, someone who is 'good at this' and 'bad at that', or even assuming that because twenty years ago we didn't like spinach we still won't like it tonight for dinner either. We box and limit ourselves in countless ways, assuming this or that to be "true" about who we are as if we are not always changing and evolving, and in the process, deny ourselves an awful lot of experiences we might be surprised to find we love at this time in our lives. (I think we also do this with each other, incorrectly judging, pigeonholing, and summing up people we claim to love or care about.) My first week with running wasn't like that! I still hated it. I postponed it until evening times, hopped off the treadmill well before my goal was completed, and just had an all-around whiny time. I have no idea why I kept at it, other than I was getting very close to my Weight Watchers goal and thought this would help me to cross the finish line. And it did do exactly that! But somewhere into the second week something else happened. It reminded me of that quote by Dorothy Parker that goes, "I hate writing. I love having written." That's precisely how I was feeling after running. I felt tired afterwards but invigorated. I felt aches in my legs but I liked it because I realized they were the pains of learning to show up for myself again. It was about rebuilding the long lost skills of perseverance and commitment. When I first began, I couldn't jog a quarter of a mile. And then there was a second shift, and this came with realizing I was enjoying running while I was running! Running has proven itself to be a fantastic teacher, mentor, coach, whatever you want to call it. It is a mirror for me of the nutty, rambling dialogue that spins and vines itself through my head, perhaps more exhausting than the racing of my legs themselves. I am constantly wanting to quit, and yet when I run, another voice pipes up and asks, "I wonder if you can go just one more minute, one minute farther than you think you can." Then another, much older voice replies, "Ummm, I don't think so. I have plans with a cupcake. No can do." Then the other voice returns again, gently and coaxingly suggests that I keep at it and not give up. The not giving up part is really what it is most about for me. I am learning through running that I feel safest when I am actually out on a limb, dangling off the edge of all I think I know about myself. Running tells me, "You are way more capable than you could ever imagine for yourself," With writing, you can show up all you want and still have an endless string of "bad writing days." But with running, if you show up and you do it, you've done it. I ripped out a page from Runner's World magazine a few months ago. It is of a woman running through a trail in the jungle. Underneath is the caption, "A run can separate a good day from a bad day. The choice is mine."I find this to be really true. Now I know there are two kinds of running. There is the kind where you are running away from something, whether that be something internal or external, or both. And then there is a second, much more illuminating and ultimately fulfilling kind, and that is a running into or towards something, perhaps a new part of yourself, a new way of being or experimenting with parts of oneself that one is meant to outgrow or rethink. I wish I could remember the poem or poet but there is a line I once read that says, "Change rooms in your mind for a day." When I run, I literally feel like I am running through rooms in my mind and body that were closed off to me before, and that is probably why I both love and hate it so very much!Alex Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02109059018269508607noreply@blogger.com