The Beauty of Running

Last week, for the first time in a long time, I ran just to run. It wasn’t on the schedule. There wasn’t a pace to aim for. No agenda. I had a roller-coaster of a day, and in the midst of an intense internal debate on whether I should go all the way to the pool or not, I suddenly had an epiphany. If I could do anything, what would I do? I wanted to run. I wanted to listen to music. I wanted to use up some energy and run without any expectations. I wanted to reflect.

And it was absolutely perfect.

Although running is this intangible thing that you can never really understand, it continues to have such a measurable impact on my life. I don’t know if it’s “running”, or if it’s simply the fact that I have something that I can identify with and that makes me happy, but it’s incredible.

Plenty of people have their “thing”…something that, for the most part, brings happiness and comfort. Sometimes it changes, but it just so happens that running has been mine for years. (Well, tempo runs are debatable!) Over these years, I’ve built an entire mental library of memorable runs from pivotal points in my life. I can remember some of these runs more vividly than other events during the same time period. I can still remember the music I was listening to.

Kansas, along Clinton Parkway; a late night post-work run past the intramural fields with the lights shining brightly as all the cars sped by. Songs: I Don’t Wanna Be and Belief by Gavin DeGraw. (ON MY DISCMAN, FYI. Tell me you all remember running with those.)

Kansas, on campus at sunset. Running past the campanile. Past the library. Past all the buildings I spent so many hours in throughout my four years there. Up and down the hills. Song: Bullet and a Target by Citizen Cope.

Iowa, through my neighborhood and over toward my high school, with fireflies twinkling in all the fields. The song was “Mandy” by Barry Manilow. (LOLOLOLOL.)

Iowa, through my neighborhood when I was angry at my parents. I remember listening to the most agressive Eminem songs I could find. (They were probably trying to make me drink milk or something.) Also with the good ol’ Discman.

New Jersey, running along the Hudson river, sometimes stopping in my tracks to stare at the beautiful New York City skyline, wondering how in the world I got so lucky to end up in that spot at that moment. I wasn’t listening to anything, I was pondering how it could be so quiet when such a busy city was so close.

My most memorable runs usually occur when I have a lot going on. For some reason, they’re usually in the summer, when I can throw clothes on easily (read: no layering) and run outside without thinking. Isn’t that ironic? I need as low maintenance of a run as possible – maybe because my mind is gearing up for a lot of reflection. It’s almost always after the sun has set, when it’s a little cooler and perfectly comfortable outside. Dusk is my favorite time of day for a run. I tend to want to listen to slower music instead of my normal upbeat selections.

Let’s be honest. Although there are always stressful things that come up week to week, today I’m more worried about how to re-do my 3-hour bike ride gone bad than anything else. And even then, as they say, “the hay is in the barn” so I’m not even sure it’s totally necessary. I’m happy, have wonderful family and friends, a roof over my head, and a job. Not only am I doing this Ironman by choice, but I’ve been able to train, semi-injury free, for the past year.

Running, with its up and downs, gives me strength. It humbles me. It brings me closer to people. It calms me and helps me problem-solve. (I’m actually concerned about where my level of craziness would be if I hadn’t found running!) It’s easy to forget that running doesn’t always have to be “productive”…whether it’s a race or a certain goal that’s motivating me, sometimes I need to run with no expectations. Run just to run. Get back to my “roots”.

What’s your “thing”? How has it changed your life?