trial of miles, miles of trials

"Listen to my body? If I listened to my body I'd be at home right now eating a danish and reading the funnies. If I listened to my body, I'd be living off toffee pops and port wine. Don't tell me to listen to my body...it's trying to turn me into a blob."
-Roger Robinson, New Zealand masters runner


I broke up with running for three days, and then we made up again.

I mentioned before, but running has gotten tough for me lately. Everything hurt. My leg muscles, my back, my shoulders, everything. My heart hasn't been in it for a few weeks, and that made it hard. Hard to the point where for the past week, I seriously contemplating hanging my shoes up for good. That scared me. I was tired of missing dinner with my family, of saying no to coffee or movie plans. I was tired of working an 8 hour shift on my feet with no break, then coming home and pounding pavement for another 4 hours minimum. I was tired of being beaten down on by the sun, tired of reaking of sweat, just generally unhappy with a pastime that once made me free. I wanted to quit. For the first time in 6 years, I wanted to quit.

I agree with Robinson. If you listen to your body, it wants to do nothing except nap, eat, and rest. The body thinks you're crazy. You've gotta listen to the finely tuned machine that you've honed inside your chest for your entire running career--a horse's heart that says "thanks" everytime it beats forcefully.

That is what you need to listen to. Because it will always tell you to keep going. That it's okay to keep pushing.

Three days doesn't sound like much but I can't remember the last time I took three consecutive days off. I think I had started to forget the reasons why I run in the first place.

There's no denying that the driving force behind my running start was to lose weight--I think that was everybody's. Nobody wants to be a runner, it's way too difficult. But over six months, my reasons changed. I didn't run because I wanted to lose weight--I had lost all the weight I was going to lose. Actually, in retrospect, I don't even think I started to run to lose weight. People who run for that reason tend to give it up after a month or so, and choose something easier like the stationary bike. Running is way too painful, no matter how desperate you are to shed the pounds.

In my three day break, day one it was 9pm at night and I was lit with nervous energy. It was a crappy day at work and I was edgy and jumpy and ridden with anxiety from a fast-paced day. Day two, after a horrendous night's sleep, I spent the entire day with way too much energy and adrenaline and simply no way to expend it and tire myself out. Jumping jacks, sleepy tea, nothing worked. Day three, my skirt fit a little too snug. I felt heavy on my feet, my limbs felt like they were sagging and I felt out of breath all the time. I felt like my heart was drooping.

Day three, I rediscovered why I run.

It's not to be skinny. I'll never be skinny. It's to be fit-it's to have at least some mild say in what happens to my body in the end. It's about doing what I can, making changes that I can control, to avoid succumbing to diseases and illnesses that might otherwise plague me. High blood pressure runs rampant in my family. Mine is borderline high--but if I didn't run, I'd be on medication for it. That's how I get my say.

I run because of the feeling I get when I'm done. The feeling that I'm sweating, gross and absolutely crazy--but that I'm one small step up from the guy on his couch stuffing himself with Doritos. It might not even matter in the future--but for the right now, my heart thanks me for it. Every single time I get out there and torture my legs and lungs into running a 10, 20 or 30km, my heart thanks me for making it stronger. Better. Durable. For taking care of it, when my body yells at me to let it rot.

I run because I have more energy than I know what to do with, and running rids me of it completely. I run because not everybody can, but I've worked long and hard to be able to do it properly, and for extreme amounts of time. I run because I love being hit with that sudden wall of danger-level hunger and eating three times as much as the average person.

I run because it kicks my ass. No matter how fit you are or how long you've been running--if you push your limits or extend your distance while training, you're going to feel like you want to die. Every single time, until that becomes your new "regular" distance. And when you extend it again--it's going to kick your ass again. I run because I can never win against it.

A reporter once asked Juma Ikangaa, a world-class marathon runner from Tanzania, on the major difference between one's commitment to marriage, and one's commitment to running. He deadpanned "With a marriage, you have a choice. And you can change your mind." I run because at this point, I can't stop.

I run because I feel like I belong to an elite club. When two runners pass on a path, you will always see them greet each other. It's a runner's salute. A small wave, a broad smile--sometimes a word or two of encouragement if the runner looks tired. And a word of encouragement is never, ever "pick it up!" or "come on!". Encouragement is always "good pace, good pace" or "don't stop".

I run because, ultimately...it makes me free.